


You

by breacche



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF, mcyt
Genre: Abduction, Abusive Relationships, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Bookstore, Alternate Universe - College/University, Bad Guy Thinks He's Right, Blood and Injury, Body Shaming, Bonding Moments, Breaking and Entering, Cute, Dark, Degradation, Drug Addiction, Drug Use, Eventual Smut, Explicit Language, F/M, Gay Panic, Innocent, Inspired by You, Internalized Homophobia, Kidnapping, Love, M/M, Mild Gore, Multi, Murder, Near Death Experiences, Not Suitable/Safe For Work, Occasional fluff, Online stalking, POV Multiple, Panic Attacks, Pining, Smoking, Stalking, Toxic Relationships, Unrequited Lust, You - Netflix Series, fiction based, mental manipulation, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-29
Updated: 2021-01-20
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:28:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 12
Words: 60,236
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27766750
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/breacche/pseuds/breacche
Summary: Dream's life was normal until he walked in.He wasn't too special, just the average brunette looking for a book to read in his free time. But to Dream, he was something else. An angel on earth, the perfect specimen... someone that seemed just too beautiful to be real. He was perfect in every way, at least from the surface. Dream wanted to know more, he was going to know more. What's the worst that could happen?// Or, Dream is works at a bookstore and one day a certain Brit walks in and captures his attention. This is based off of the Netflix series "You" and will have heavy topics, so please be wary. This in no way ships the real life creators, just their online personas. If they wish for it to be taken down then I will do it with no questions asked.Smut Warning on Chapter(s) - 4Still a WIP, incomplete.
Relationships: Clay | Dream & GeorgeNotFound & Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream & GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound/Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF), GeorgeNotFound/Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF)
Comments: 69
Kudos: 261





	1. Pilot (Chapter 1 Part 1)

**Author's Note:**

> This is just a mindless fanfic that's meant to cause no harm. I don't plan on reading it and it might not even stay up, for all I know. If you get offended by this, please don't read it and just click off. I don't want anyone donating to a certain creator or commenting about this, even though I know it won't get to that point. It's meant to stay here and here only. I do hope (if you found this) and do read it that you enjoy, writing is one of my favorite hobbies and this is a lot of fun! Also anything in italics are just emphasized thoughts, not words being spoken aloud.

The door opened, setting off the three bells that were hanging above the wooden frame. It shut with a soft thump as the stranger walked into the book store. Just a normal person, one with no set goals or ideals.

_Well, hello there._

The shadow of a man moved from behind one of the shelves, eyes watching the stranger. _Who are you?_ His thoughts were slow as they followed him along. The stranger walked past the shelf, allowing him a better look at the beautiful male. _Based on your vibe, a student. Your shirt is loose._ Piercing green eyes studied the boy, flicking from one accessory to the next. He was drawn to the four or five bracelets tangled on his thin, pale wrist. 

_You're not here to be ogled... but those bracelets, they jangle._ The boy brought his hand up and gingerly felt along the spines of the books. His touch was gentle, like he didn't know quite what he was looking for. _You like attention._ The shadow behind the shelf grew a sly smile. _Okay, I bite._

 _You search the books. Fiction, "F" through "K". Now, hmm.._ A pause. Just a few seconds, long enough to get a good reading on him. _You're not the standard insecure nymph hunting for Faulkner you'll never finish._ He brought his hand to the side of the shelf, leaning against it slightly, then tilted his head. The green orbs eyed his perfect complexion. Smooth, flawless. _Too sun-kissed for Stephen King. Who will you buy?_

The stranger pulled out his phone, diverting his attention to the electronic. The secrets, the information, the knowledge that one thing held was the key to everything. He was too focused on the device because before he knew it, he had bumped into someone's shoulder. He lifted his head, turning for a second and meeting the person's eyes. "Sorry!" His voice was high pitched. Concerned. The other shrugged it off like nothing happened, however. _You sound apologetic, like you're embarrassed to be a good boy, and you murmur your first word to me._

The boy walked behind him, catching his attention. The man behind the shelf turned to see him walking towards him. Coming into focus, he was able to get a better look at his face. Young, with wide, amber pools that had flickers of gold. His brown hair was a mess, he clearly hadn't put any thought into it before coming here. He stopped short of the other. "Hello, do you work here?" 

He was British, that's the first thing the bookstore clerk had realized. His accent was thick, a sound that no doubt made anyone who heard it feel giddy. He has a goofy smile on his face, mouth open just enough to show his dazzling white teeth. The other smiled in return, how could he not? "Guilty. Can I help you find something?" 

"Paula Fox." He responds immediately, squeezing the phone in his hand just a little bit tighter. 

"It's a good choice." the noticeably taller man states, smile growing even more. 

He laughed, eyes glinting in the dim light of the store. Soft and gentle, more of a giggle than an actual laugh. "Hmm, I feel weirdly validated." 

The green eyed man chuckled, turning around. "Follow me." He walked past the smaller, gesturing for him to come with. The boy did, without hesitation, now that... that was validation. They both locked eyes once more, sharing a smile before he took him around a few aisles and into the Celebrity Author section, the words engraved into the old mahogany shelf. "She's gonna be here." 

"Celebrity authors? I thought Fox was pretty obscure." His brown eyes looked over the shelf with hints of excitement, a very pleasing look that the other would love to see more of. 

"She is Country Love's maternal grandmother." The book keeper started, but once he saw the look of slight confusion appear he blinked. "You're not expected to know that." 

He shrugged. "Good. I didn't." 

"Techno wants anyone in here who's even tangentially famous. He uh, thinks it sells more books." The blonde rubbed the back of his neck, stepping closer to the bookshelf.

The brunette laughed again, the sound ringing throughout the store. "That's sad." The Brit stated. The blonde cocked his head, raising a brow for him to go on. "I mean, people buying books because of what's popular and not because they wanna be moved or changed in some way." He looked upset, almost. He reached up and brushed his fingers against the engraving, getting lost in his own thoughts. 

The blonde nodded. "Yeah. It's an epidemic."

He giggled. A sudden movement caught the blonde's eye, diverting his attention from the brunette. He nodded behind him. "You see this guy? Here, the glasses behind you." The smaller turned around as he walked closer, gesturing towards another customer. "He just grabbed Dan Brown's latest on the way in. So he's gonna wander around for another, like, five or ten minutes." He sighed. "Just to find something legitimate to buy it with."

The brunette turned around, a shit eating grin on his face. It was appealing. "Oh, like the cereal guys buy when they're really there for condoms?" His brown eyes were now filled with mischief, he knew exactly what he was doing. "Only makes it more conspicuous, like, own your shit."

He glanced back over his shoulder, staring at the old man who was shifting on his feet, looking around for any book. Anything he could substitute for the book he truly wanted. "If Dan Brown's your kink, then be out about it." The man finally grabbed a book, looking around quickly before heading to the register. He scoffed. "At the end of the day, people really are disappointing aren't they?"

"Sometimes they surprise you." He turned back to face the blonde, their eyes locking again. He was ready to get lost in those eyes. The brown orbs that sparkled with humor and interest. He then shook his head ever so slightly, bringing himself back to reality. "Paula Fox. Top shelf. You want me to-"

"Oh, no, I got it." He smiled, before craning his neck to look up at the shelf in front of him.

He was short. Pretty short, probably standing max height at 5'8. He put a hand on the third level of the shelf, leaning his body forward as he stood up on his toes, arm extending out to reach for the book. The blonde's eyes trailed down from the tip of his slender fingers and kept going until he landed on the specific area by his waist. He cocked his head ever so slightly. Barely clinging to his hips was a pair of gray sweatpants and a certain appendage just so happened to be prominently sticking out slightly.

 _Oh. Are you not wearing underwear? And you want me to notice._ The blonde felt his lip raise in a small smirk. _If this was a movie, I'd grab you right now and we'd go at it right in the stacks._ His tongue slipped out of his mouth and licked his lips, studying the lower regions of this man. His thoughts were shameless, and he felt his body tingle as he tried to bring his mind back to reality. It was hard, though. Extremely hard, and this certain brunette wasn't making it any easier with his small figure and petite frame.

"Have you read her fiction? "Desperate Characters," it's her best." He changed the subject, meeting his eyes once again as he held the book tightly in his hands. He had enough self control to not stare, but fuck was it messing with his mind. He fought the urge to let his eyes fall and let his mind think of certain... activities he'd like to do with this stranger.

He sighed in response, but kept a smile. He clutched the book in his hands, running his fingers over the smooth paperback cover. "That's what I keep hearing."

"You haven't read Desperate Characters?" He asked, voice raised in awe. This resulted in the other giggling even more.

He ran a finger through his hair. It was fluffy and soft, he wanted to run his fingers through it over and over again until the brunette fell asleep on his lap. "I know, I know. I'm worried it's not going to live up to the hype."

"Well, I can safely say it is that good." The taller assured, giving him a sweet smile.

Another scoff. This boy had an attitude and he was living for it. "That's a high endorsement. And from a bookstore clerk, nonetheless." The sass in this man was driving the blonde crazy. Everything about him was just so easy to adore, and he let out a small chuckle.

"Well It's bookstore manager," he corrected, about to make another half-hearted joke when that stranger from before interrupted.

"Hello?" He asked. "Anyone working here?" His annoying voice spoke out, scratching at his ears. The blonde felt a twinge of anger at this. He was in the middle of a moment and this man just had to fuck it up.

The brunette gave him a satisfied smile, before leaning in close. "Asshole," he whispered, breath tickling the blonde's neck, before looking up at him with soft eyes and walking away. The blonde's eyes followed him as he left, smiling wide. It hurt him to see him leave, yet he needed to help the other customers or Fruit would have his ass.

He left the aisle that he was previously in and walked behind the counter, making sure his dark green apron was tied securely around his waist. The man slammed the two books on the counter a little aggressively, rolling his shoulders. "Do you mind? I'm uh, in a hurry."

The scowl on his face was rather annoying, if he did say so himself. _He's just pissed he's gotta buy Salinger to feel respectable when all he really wants to do is eat Cheetos and jerk it to iPorn before washing it all down with a Dan Brown chaser._ He thought as he rang up the two items, scanning them quickly. This guy was a bother and he wanted him gone. He grabbed some change from the register before handing it to him.

"Have a nice day, sir." He said cheerfully, forcing a smile. The customer rolled his eyes, grabbing the books before turning around and walking out of the store with his back hunched over.

That smile quickly became genuine when his favorite brunette stepped into the spotlight, slamming his book onto the counter. "Okay, I'm going for it."

"Good! You won't regret it." He assured, sliding the book closer and swiping it across the scanner. It let out a satisfying beep as the price popped up onto the screen.

"I'd better not." He smirked, twisting his body slightly in order to reach into the pocket of his sweatpants and pull out a leather wallet.

His co manager, Fruitberries (Fruit for short), walked up to stand next to the blonde. They were so close their arms were touching, his eyes flicked from the book to the brunette before giving a small nod of approval. "Paula Fox. Nice. You know she was uh, Courtney Love's maternal grandmother." He stated proudly.

"That's why I'm buying it." He responded, relaxing his shoulders. Fruit stood there for an awkward second, before turning around immediately and leaving the two alone. The Brit dug around in his wallet, pushing aside multiple ten dollar bills. He finally found his card and pulled it out, reaching forward and handing it to the blonde.

 _You have enough cash to cover this,_ he thought slyly, turning the card over in his hands. _but you want me to know your name._ He brought it up slightly, turning it to get a better reading. "George?"

"Yeah... my parents were assholes with the whole naming thing. Very original, I know." The blonde finished running the card, lifting his head and handing the card back to George. He quickly signed the slip of confirmation, then raised a brow and squinted. "And you're... Dream?"

He nodded. "That's always been what people have called me. I know it's weird." Dream stated, which got a giggle out of George that made Dream grin. Dream finished with the items, sticking them into a brown paper bag, setting it on the counter and pushing it towards the Brit.

George grabbed it and waited. He looked at Dream expectantly, and after not receiving anything he rolled his eyes. "Aren't you going to tell me to have a nice day?"

Dream laughed. "You have a nice day, George."

"You have one yourself, Dream." He said with a smile, looking Dream up and down.

They both reached their hands over the counter, closing around each other as they shook. Both of their faces had wide smiles on it, Dream squeezing George's small and slightly cold hand in his much larger one. George gave him a nod of appreciation, turning away. He cast one last glance back at Dream, before smiling and making his way towards the exit.

Dream watched him go, smile never leaving as he pushed open the door and let it fall closed behind him. He relaxed, feeling a rush of tension escape his nerves and muscles. _You smiled. Laughed at my jokes._

 _Told me your name._ Dream looked down at the slip that George had signed, running his finger over the simple penmanship. _Asked for mine._

"He write his number on there?" Fruit asked, tearing Dream away from his thoughts. He turned to see the other leaning against the wall, arms crossed. Beneath his mask it was evident he was smiling, eyes bright. "He was on you hard."

Dream shook his head, holding the paper tightly. He let out a long sigh. "No, he was just being nice."

Fruit scoffed. "I'd be googling the hell out of him right now!" He stated matter of factly, and Dream couldn't help but roll his eyes. "You know his full name!"

"That's pretty aggressive, Fruit." Dream said nonchalantly as he stuffed the slip into his pocket. Fruit was being ridiculous. He wasn't going to go that far was he? His mind flashed back to George, his perfect smile and his adorable little giggle that Dream couldn't help but want to hear again. Still, he had boundaries... right?

"What do I tell you? Always be closing that shit." Fruit grumbled, throwing his hands into the air to add emphasis to his words.

Dream groaned inwardly, brushing past his partner and walking over to a cart that held multiple stacks of books, giving a small look towards Fruit as he began pushing it away. Fruit stepped back, then began saying his favorite excuse. "If you need me, I'll be in cookbooks. But for work, not for fun I swear."

The farther he walked away from Fruit, the more of George's words entered his head and played around on repeat. _At the end of the day, people really are just disappointing aren't they?_

Dream set the cart aside when he was out of Fruit's field of view, legs taking him towards the windows at the very front of the store. He looked around, eyes scanning the busy streets as they searched for a few seconds. They landed on George, he grew a smirk as his eyes followed George as he walked. The bag containing his Paula Fox was clutched tightly in one hand and his phone was occupying the other. _But are you, George? Are you?_

Dream watched as George made a sharp left, picking up the pace as he skipped forward and disappeared underneath the street and into the subway. Dream leaned against the glass, watching him until he was gone. His lips curled up into a more sly smile, heart pounding in his chest. He definitely would be seeing George again, more sooner than he thought.

//

It was late. The sun had gone down hours ago and the store finally was able to close. Dream was walking home, gripping a bag of food in his left hand. The night air was crisp and cool so he stuck his other hand into the pocket of his hoodie. During the walk back, however, he couldn't help but have a smile on his face. Some people just do that to you, you know? George was one of those, with his sickeningly sweet British accent and his overly adorable face, with puppy dog eyes and a stubborn attitude that Dream just lived for.

 _Yes, people find "the one." I believe that. I try to stay open._ He made his way across the street, cutting across a parking lot. His eyes landed on a couple sitting on the hood of a car, their lips locked together in a desperate attempt to feel. Hands were roaming up and down, grasping at whatever they could. Dream walked past, looking at them out of the corner of his eye. _I was in love once. He broke my heart, George._

He shook his head, forcing himself to ignore the couple and their frisky activities. _Ugh, he really did a number on me. I should have seen the signs. But, we never do when we're in love._ Dream walked up the cement steps to where he was currently staying and opened the door to be met with distant arguing. _Exhibit A. Sally and Wilbur._

"I went out for a couple of drinks." A feminine voice raged. "Get off my back!" _Wilbur's a nurse. Single parent._ More yelling, this time some rebuttal from Wilbur, something about leaving him alone and... a phone? Their words tended to mold together into one big fire these days. _You think he knew Sally was a shitbag when he fell in love? No, he thought she was a princess._ He opened the door to his apartment complex and stepped in, feeling a rush of cold air blowing over his body. It was somehow colder in here than it was outside.

Dream raced up the stairs, rounding the corner to see an all too familiar figure slumped over on the stairs. A book was clenched tightly in his hands, his ginger brown hair fell over his face and his knees were pressed together. It was almost as if he was making himself as small as possible. "Hey Fundy."

Fundy looked up, his lip was worried between his teeth. He seemed to relax when he saw it was Dream. "Sup Dream."

 _And now, it's not only his life he ruined._ Dream walked to his door, reaching for the handle when a large crash sounded from the apartment that was a few feet over. Fundy jumped, turning his head towards the brown door that was hiding all of this from the real world. "Leave me alone! Why is coming home such a chore for you!" Wilbur barked from inside

Dream turned his body slightly and looked at Fundy. "Is everything cool in there?"

"Yeah. Dad and Sally are just talking." Fundy said quietly, looking away from the door. Wilbur yelled something about Sally always leaving to hang out with her friends, and Sally clearly didn't like that. More shuffling noises ensued.

Dream clicked his tongue, watching as Fundy gripped the edges of his book tighter. "Wow. You are burning through that book, aren't you."

Fundy looked up at him with a genuine smile. "Reads quick. It's good." He flipped the book closed, allowing Dream to read the title that said 'The Three Musketeers' on the faded, green leather cover. Dream was impressed, not everyone was able to read that book but Fundy seemed to be having a ball with it.

"Let me know when you finish. I'll get you another one." Dream started, but was interrupted yet again by the yells and screams of Wilbur and Sally. Wilbur was ordering Sally to leave, but of course she refused to. Dream closed his fist around the doorknob, gritting his teeth. he then looked back to Fundy who had gotten back into his book. Dream smiled, reaching into his bag and pulling out something wrapped in tinfoil. "Are you hungry? 'Cause, you know, I just got this meatball sub, but I remembered I had Thai food from last night."

Fundy shook his head. "Nah, my dad will just make me something later." He said, but Dream had a feeling Wilbur wasn't going to do much tonight other than scream and fight. He didn't blame him. 

Dream shook his head and shrugged. "That's a shame. This won't keep. It's getting tossed."

Fundy paused, closing his book. "You sure Dream?"

He walked over to Fundy, bending over slightly and handing him the sandwich with a smile. "All for one and one for all." He winked.

Fundy took it, eyes lighting up with pure happiness. He wasted no time tearing into the tinfoil, ripping it away and unwrapping his treasure. This satisfied Dream, at least enough. With one last glance at the neighbor's door, he walked back and into his own apartment. He shut the door behind him, locking it rather quickly.

He tossed the keys onto a table that was by the door, lifting his hoodie above his head and letting it drop to the floor. Any other night he would hang it up, but tonight cleanliness wasn't occupying his mind.

_The point, George... Love is uh, tricky._

Dream headed across the small living room, sidestepping the table that sat comfortably in the middle. He walked up to the record player that set atop his shelf. It had been expensive and was one of his favorite items, he much more preferred old school things like this than boomboxes and radios. Dream squatted for a few seconds, running his hands along the multiple vinyl discs he had collected overtime and pulling out a random one.

He stood, setting it into the record player before getting it situated. The beginning of rock music started to play from the stereo, and he shifted the dial in order to keep it quiet. He'd need to be able to think, but whenever he had something in the background he found it easier to focus. Once he finished setting up his music, his stomach let out an angry snarl in protest. Dream grimaced, but he didn't regret giving his food to Fundy. The kid needed it, and it's the least he could do.

Dream turned and headed into his kitchen, stopping at the fridge and pulling it open. Much to his dismay, the only thing he had was a half eaten jar of mayonnaise and a can of salsa that was three months expired. He groaned, shutting the fridge. He stood up, opening the cupboard and glancing around.

The only thing he had was crackers and peanut butter. It'd have to do, at least for tonight. He'd go shopping later. Dream grabbed the crackers and peanut butter, shutting the cupboard and turning to grab a knife. After shuffling around in his silverware drawer, he got what he needed and then turned to go back into his living room where he had a desk.

While on his way to his desk, an old picture caught his eye. He paused, taking a second to study it. It was an old picture, one from back when he was just a kid. It was him and his teacher, Technoblade. They were standing in front of Mooney's, smiling wide. Techno didn't look as happy as Dream, but that was a very important day for the both of them.

He sighed, walking past the picture and stopping at his desk. He set his supper down on the side, before pulling his computer close and popping it open. He sat down, giving a quick yawn as he typed in his password and important information. He pulled up google, a small smile forming on his lips.

It was time to learn more about George, and Dream was ready to take on the task of finding more information about the Brit that he had met in his bookstore. All he needed to do was a quick google search...


	2. Pilot (Chapter 1 Part 2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dream is determined to know more about mystery man he had encountered, so he does a little research on him. You'd be surprised how much information one could find just by using google.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HEADS UP: After this chapter is posted I will be changing the rating to explicit. If that's not a warning in itself, the story is going to start getting stronger and darker. There will be sexual content in upcoming chapters that I will explain in more detail once I post those. Friendly Reminder: This is not meant to cause any harm towards any content creators, for this is simply meant for their online personas. If they ever say they are uncomfortable or want it taken down, I will not hesitate. Please keep this on ao3 unless given permission otherwise, and do not bombard creators. CW: This goes over heavy topics and isn't suitable for young (?) eyes.

Dream took a deep breath as he flexed his fingers, brow furrowing while he looked into the bright screen that lay before him.

 _A guy needs to protect himself. I had to be sure you're safe._ Dream's eyes stayed glued to his laptop where he put "George Davidson" into the google search bar. He pressed enter, feeling a twinge of annoyance at the results that popped up. _Your name... wasn't a very nice start, to say the least._ Multiple pages popped up, ranging from a stupid geodesist all the way to random profiles with white looking dad's and trashy teenagers. For a second he was scared he wouldn't be able to find him, but with a quick shake of the head he focused on his computer again. He was determined to learn more about the Brit. There was just one major issue. _There's a lot of George Davidson's._ He thought while giving a slight roll of his eyes.

He scrolled through a few pages, clicking on what he assumed was one of the many social medias. After scouring accounts for a solid three to four minutes, his smile grew and his eyes lit up when he found exactly who he wanted. _And there you were. Every account set to public._ Dream pressed into the finger pad, scrolling down to see his numerous photos. There was everything. George somehow got even more prettier than Dream thought was possible. One of these photos were of him showing off a popsicle that was half eaten. The ice cream was gone and melting down his perfect fingers, sticky and creamy. Dream went down further to see George on the beach, doing yoga in front of a sunset. His eyes were pressed shut, back arched and arms out. He was focused, and more importantly he looked peaceful.

 _You want to be seen. Heard. Known._ He grinned, leaning into his computer as if that would give him a better look. _Of course, I obliged._

How could he not? He was intrigued. His eyes skimmed the page for more clues about George. He saw a post of a beach, with the caption "I get so homesick when I see photos of home like this. #Brighton" Dream couldn't help but laugh. _Born and raised in Brighton, England. That definitely explains the British accent._ For a quick second he wondered why he'd ever want to leave the UK, but he figured the deeper he dug the more he'd know. More scrolling, then another post. This one was giving thanks about his family. He recoiled slightly at this. _A brother, Jack, and sister, Oliva. Your parents really were assholes about the names._

 _Your folks split when you were twelve. Your dad dropped out of the picture._ So that meant he has daddy issues. That was an interesting fact that might come to use in the future. Dream paused for a few seconds, his mind was racing, but he knew he'd have to stay calm or he would skip over vital information. Another post caught his eye, this one with a video attached.

This one made Dream's heart flutter. George was walking around a university giving a brief layout of his day and his current situation. He was wearing a thick oversized hoodie that was way too big for his small frame and body type. Stretched across the chest was the name of said university. _Went to Brown where you majored in lit. Cool._ He was smart. Brown wasn't an easy college to get into, and Dream always had a thing for smart guys. There was something about the way people thought that drew him on and George was no exception. To be fair, who wasn't a sucker for intelligence? The thing about George was that he was humble. He didn't walk around like he owned the place, in fact he was quite the opposite. Dream clicked his tongue at his. The more he learned about George the more excited he got. God, what was George doing to him? 

He scrolled down and his smile immediately fell. _You also happened to minor in douchebags._ There was a picture of a dirty blonde haired man, with hair that went down to his shoulders. He had a mustache and beard as well, all of it was slicked back with some shit pharmacy looking gel. Just by looking at it you could tell it was greasy. He was hugging George, arms wrapped around him in a protective embrace. Dream rolled his shoulders, shaking off the uncomfortable feeling of the stranger. He gave off bad vibes that Dream didn't want George associating with. The man was horrifying, George was too sweet to even be around such a disgusting excuse for a human being.

Another scroll, this was a post that read "Could not be more excited to start the next chapter of my life! MFA I'm coming for you!!!" with a bunch of hashtags to prove his excitement. Dream snorted, he posted like a teenage girl. It was kind of admirable though, and is definitely something George would do. _And then onto NYC,_ he inferred, bringing a hand to his chin and tapping it. _to conquer an MFA and make your mark, presumably._ He dragged the mouse across the screen, doing a quick look-through of the photos that he had attached to his account.

A picture of him in a field holding a camera, a bright smile stretched across his perfect lips. It was endearing and he looked like he was having the time of his life. Another one of him doing yoga, he either worked at a yoga establishment or just enjoyed stretching. Dream smirked at this, if George was flexible... oh how good of a bonus that would be. He could just picture George in the middle of a room with a bunch of unattractive old women... now that was distasteful and rather disgusting, what Dream envisioned was George showing them how it's done. Leading by example, doing this complicated poses while bending this way and that. He quickly scolded himself for getting distracted and forced his mind to focus back on what he was doing in the first place.

_Now you still write, barely. Too busy living out moments you won't remember five years from now, I know this because you post about this life all the goddamn time._

His look darkened the farther he looked, green eyes moving across the screen swiftly. One picture after another. The first of that same man from before, tongue sticking out with his fingers positioned like a gun pointing in his mouth. Dream rolled his eyes, how childish. There's no way George found this guy attractive. There wasn't a single thing about him, and judging by a few other pictures he probably didn't have a good personality to make up for his, lack of looks, to put it lightly. He clicked on another picture. This one was different, showing two people of who he assumed were George's friends. The two were hugging each other and looking like they were just laid back and having a chill time. They seemed happy and joyful, really staying in the moment. He scrolled down once more to see a video of three people, the same two as before but another guy had accompanied them. It looked to Dream like George had three main friends, and not a single one of them seemed to be a good influence.

All very different, none of them even remotely as good as George. They had their perks - sure. They looked as if they were the type of friends that you met in High School and ditched the second you graduated. _Candidly, it's the least appealing thing about you George._ He thought bitterly, clicking to some of the more recent posts. His eyes lit up at what he saw. _You posted this hours after our encounter._ It was a picture of 'Desperate Characters,' the book George had bought from his store. He raised a brow at the caption, however. It read "Most of my favorite people are books." Dream paused for a second, giving his thoughts a moment to collect themselves. _I was concerned you didn't mention that cute guy in a bookstore._

His eyes widened as the gears turned and finally clicked. Another smirk and he forgot the caption within seconds. _And then I realized... your online life isn't real._ He scrolled down more, sweeping through more and more of his posts. He had a lot. With a small giggle, he leaned back in his chair and clapped his hands together. This is what he enjoyed, taking things apart and putting information together to get the complete picture. _It's a collage. You paste this George up, this... together, lovable, cute, bendy little creature._ He paused at one of the pictures, George sitting on the beach again. This time he was holding his legs close to his chest. He was laughing, eyes scrunched closed against the sun. Dream was able to get a good look of his chest, smooth and toned just like the rest of him.

 _If anything, the fact that you didn't share me with your followers only confirmed we really connected._ He clicked onto another page and what he saw made him want to jump out of his chair and cheer. His green eyes sparked with excitement and he felt a wave of relief wash over him as he got what he had been looking for from the beginning.

It was a normal post, at least to a normal person it was. To Dream, however, it unlocked one of the most key pieces of information he could find. It was simple, just George sitting on the steps in front of a building, holding a box above his head. The caption said "Moving into my new apartment!" with a few hashtags over it. He looked happy, excited for starting a new chapter in his life. It was clearly from the first day he had moved in, because who wouldn't post about such a major event right? Without a second thought, Dream clicked on the image and dragged it into a new tab. He pulled up google maps, linking the photo to the app and pressing a few keys before hitting enter.

He waited patiently, allowing the app a few seconds to process. _The next thing our little friend the internet gave me,_ His heart had picked up pace when it finished, the app glitched for a split second before zooming in on a certain street which had a certain apartment complex on it. _was your address._ A picture popped up, it was a very nice apartment. At least from this one picture it seemed nice, later on he'd realize it was way too expensive for George considering his profession and how much he earned, but at this point that was the last thing on his mind. Running a hand through his blonde hair, he printed out the address. Dream smiled, standing up so fast his chair fell back behind him as he turned and grabbed his hoodie from where he had ditched it previously.

Normally he'd wait and be patient, but the urge to see George again was quickly overtaking his thoughts. 

//

171 Bank Street. It was spacious, a very nice apartment and Dream sort of envied it. It couldn't be cheap, judging by where it was built and the neighborhood around it. _There it is,_ he breathed, hands in the pockets of his hoodie as he walked up to it. _with its big, naked windows._ Dream stayed across the street, finding the comfort of a rather large tree good enough to keep himself somewhat hidden. As he took in the apartment, curiosity bubbled in his chest. There were three massive arched windows at the front, which gave Dream a fantastic view into the apartment. It was decorated nice with plenty of well chosen furniture that seemed to correlate well. 

A smirk made it's way onto his face when he saw George walk into the view of the massive windows, to his surprise and delight wearing nothing but a towel around his waist. His focus was on the phone in his hand, but god was he cute. His brown hair was still wet from what he assumed was a shower, hanging in front of his beautiful face. His attention stayed on his phone. He had no idea that Dream was standing out here, and Dream didn't plan on telling him. This was his chance to study George and learn more about him. _It's nice, too nice. I'm thinking subsidized school housing._

George walked further into the main room of his apartment, walking up to a vanity that was in the far corner. Wrapped around his waist was an electric blue towel that was barely holding on, and at any second it looked like it would fall off. It showed his v-line that led farther down. Dream sighed, leaning against the tree for support as he watched. George then whispered something to himself, setting his phone down and looking at himself in the mirror, bringing a comb that was lying on the vanity up to his hair and starting to brush it.

 _Jesus, it's like you've never seen a horror movie or the news._ Dream thought, slightly sour. It's not like Dream wanted to be upset, it's just he was letting the world see him like this, wet and exposed, and he didn't give a damn. Someone as perfect as George needs to take care of himself, and by not having blinds whatsoever, anyone could look in. It was dangerous - what if he got a stalker or something? They'd have access to him, and it was putting Dream on edge. The thought of other people with him sent a wave of rage through his spine and he was sure his face was red with annoyance - he'd have to teach George later about safety precautions and privacy.

George had turned and left the living room for a few seconds, pulling a fresh Mac N' Cheese from his microwave, opening the door and shutting it without a second thought. Oh to be oblivious, Dream missed that feeling. Dream paused, realizing something once again about the Brit. He remembered about how all of his socials are public, all the videos and photos - _But you want people to watch... don't you?_ George set the steaming pile of Mac N' Cheese onto the table in his room, leaving it there to cool. Dream tilted his head. _You know, I plan on asking you about this quality when we get to know each other better. A proposal._ The Brit looked calm and collected, not knowing that Dream was standing outside and observing. He wasn't do anything wrong, right? He's just observing. He wants, no... he needs, to know more about George.

 _Why don't we spend the day together tomorrow? Just you and me?_ Dream asked in his mind, fully knowing it'd do no good, but hey it's the thought that counts. George flopped down onto his bed, letting his body bounce since he was so light. The brunette grabbed his phone, smiling as he began to type out a post. "To everyone out there chasing their dreams, don't give up." He kicked his feet back and forth, keeping his eyes on his phone in complete focus. George seemed like the person to hyperfixate on one thing, judging by how intensely he was looking at his phone. "And in the meantime, Mac N' Cheese!"

Dream's phone buzzed, and he pulled it out of his pocket. He blinked at the post. _It's cute. Not deep, but cute. Is there more to you? Let's find out._

//

 _Our day starts at the ass crack of dawn._ Dream lifts the covers off of him, propelling himself out of bed at record speed. Today was the day he could truly learn more about George, and god he was dying to figure out about this man. He'd been in Dream's mind for so long, completely taking over his thoughts. Everything reminded Dream of George, to the point where he swore he was losing his mind. Dream was excited though and he was ready to follow George today, while taking the proper precautions as well.

 _I know from your posted schedule that you teach a 6:30 class called Get Up N Flow._ As Dream inferred earlier, George did teach a yoga class. This excited Dream to a very large extent. His suspicions were confirmed as well, though. It wasn't a very high paying job and he couldn't help but wonder about how he managed to afford such a grand apartment. That didn't matter right now, what mattered was keeping up with George today. He jogged outside of his apartment once more and he saw George rushing around his living room, slipping on a very loose tank top and grabbing a yoga mat before dropping to his knees and slipping on shoes. His eyes were lazar focused on his fingers as he worked to catch up the time he had lost. He was late, of course he would be, it's such a George thing to do.

Dream was now outside of his yoga class, standing across the street and slurping on a Dr. Pepper. He was supposed to eat and had planned to but he found himself losing his appetite when watching old ladies stick their asses into the air and hold it for however long George had ordered. He found himself very let down that George walked around and positioned said old ladies more than he did the poses himself, which was aggravating. He just wanted to see George move, wanted to see how much his body could handle. _You caress the sweaty backs of bulimic, dead-eyed real mommies of SoHo.._

"I'm loving your form today Tasha!" George's voice rang out as he congratulated one of the ladies, who looked at him with a smile of appreciation for his praise. Dream rolled his eyes at this, of all the people he gave praise to it was her? Revolting. _Offering smiles and lies of encouragement._ Even Dream could do a better job, considering the only thing they were doing was downward dog and child's pose. The most complicated pose they had done was standing on one leg, and George had them stop rather quickly considering none of them had an inch of balance in them.

After a painstakingly long couple of hours of George ordering people around it was time for his shift to be over and he headed to his university. _By 10:00 you're at your campus to TA a Romantics class and play Vanna White to some shirt._ Dream made sure to keep relatively out of George's view as he hopped down the steps of the university, pushing his way through numerous crowds of students. His head swiveled around, scoping out the area before his chocolate brown eyes landed on an old women, walking swiftly down the cement path with her head held high. She looked like a bitch, one with a stick shoved up her ass. Dream held the textbook in his hands a little tighter as George skipped up to her.

"Good morning Professor Leahy!" George piped up, hurrying over and slowing to a walk next to her. She turned to George, and immediately she lost the tense and angered look. In place of this, a smirk grew on her heavily botoxed lips. She then reached over and laid a manicured hand on his shoulder, and Dream couldn't help but notice how she towered over him in both height and girth. She was massive for a lady and looked like she could very easily crush him if she pleased.

"I told you, it's Paula. Are you ready for class?" Her voice was laced with sweetness, and Dream watched in utter horror as her hand trailed behind George's neck, then dipped down and slid onto the very tail end of George's back. She stopped and pressed into his lower end, squeezing right above his perk little ass that damn, looked fine today. A fire Dream wasn't sure he had felt before burst in his chest, and he heard the noise of something tearing. He looked down in stunned silence as he noticed he'd just ripped a good portion of the textbook's pages clean off the spine. Oops, he paused, before looking back up at Paula and George. _Professor Obvious wants to fuck you._ Dream thinks to himself, bile rising in his throat at the thought of this croon touching George. 

George, however, didn't pull away from the touch. He turned to the professor with a smile, in fact, but Dream could see it in his eyes how violated he was. Even from halfway across the courtyard Dream could tell how uncomfortable he was by the way he tensed and how white his knuckles got from squeezing his books in his hands to fight the urge to flee. He was fantastic at faking a smile, however. _Now you're smart. You let her think one day she might._ Dream tilted his head, watching as the two walked together side by side. The professor laughing and ogling George like he was a piece of art, and Dream didn't blame him, George was beautiful, but that didn't give her the right to make him feel like that. It couldn't be nice putting up an act as serious as that. _And what's the harm in that, right?_

 _After class, you head to your favorite cafe, to write, for the first time that day._ Dream watches as George pushes the university door open, holding a stack of books in his arms. He stumbled for a few seconds but laughed it off, looking around before making his way off campus. He seemed tired, judging by his slouched posture and how his eyes were drooping. 

_But your life doesn't cooperate._ There was pause as George's phone buzzed and he stalls in the courtyard, shifting his books to one hand as he pulls out his phone. He bites his lip, something that Dream noticed he did when he was nervous or indecisive. When he had something in mind. _Your wealthy friends have just now woken up, and have nothing better to do than plan their next pointless yet instagrammable night._

BadBoyHalo: OMG. Remember that guy from last night?  
Sapnap: He was a total Harvey, he tried to finger bang me at the bar.  
Antfrost: OMG What a TOAD!  
Sapnap: Antfrost's B-Day tonight!! See you at the Gilded Pig!  
BadBoyHalo: Can't wait!

Dream clicked his tongue, watching George sigh before stuffing his phone in his pocket. He looked around for a few seconds and Dream instinctively turned, but stayed angled enough to keep his eyes on George. _Can we get real for a second?_ George shifted his books once more, before ducking his head and turning around. He walked in the complete opposite direction of the cafe, instead choosing to go home and get ready for some ridiculous party. Dream crossed his arms, watching him go before bringing a hand up and rubbing the back of his neck. 

_You have questionable taste in friends, George._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed this part of chapter one :) I enjoy writing and find this a lot of fun, but if you have any tips or tricks you'd like to tell me please let me know. Also this is once again based off of the TV series You, so potential spoiler warning for that! Please be patient I'm figuring this out as I go haha. Also go ahead and comment, I want to know your thoughts and if you enjoyed! I've got the majority of chapter one written and will release them accordingly. It will always be between a three day and one week period. I am working on this by myself so there may be a few typos but other than that it should be good!


	3. Pilot (Chapter 1 Part 3)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> George and his friends go to a bar to celebrate their birthday, Dream of course tags along unnoticed to observe the interactions. George's three best friends are introduced. After a long night, he follows George home only to be met with another guy who Dream swears he knows, but can't quite put a finger on it. Warning: This is where things start to turn, and I'd suggest you make sure to read all tags before continuing. Things start getting heated near the end ;) Also: This fic has been moved over to explicit so if you're new, welcome - if you're not, thanks for coming back! Also: For the mystery man I don't think I'm going to be making him a cc, just because of the overall severity of the acts that will happen as the story progresses. I might switch it up last moment but as of now it stays the same from the original show. Some characters might change halfway through as this is still a WIP.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do not share this with any of the content creators mentioned/anyone famous (?) in reality. This is just a story not meant to cause harm towards anyone, and involves online personas not the real creators themselves. If they have any issues I will not hesitate taking this down.

Throughout his time studying George, Dream had came to one major conclusion. He had a hard time saying no. Dream could see it in his eyes and the way he walked how he dreaded going to this party. It was the last thing he wanted to do, but at the same time George just couldn't bring himself to say no. Dream pitied him, really. His vulturous friends were straight up nightmares to be around and didn't match George's energy whatsoever. In fact he'd never seen a group of people be so similar yet so different. George stood out from them like a sore thumb, considering they were buried to their eyebrows in money while he was buried in nothing but debt and bills. Despite this he seemed to be having a genuinely happy time, as one would if they had gotten drinks.

So here they were, at Gilded Pig's, celebrating Antfrost's birthday. It smelled of cheap wine and old liquor, not the nicest of places either. Why anyone would come here for their birthday he had no idea, but if he was happy he was happy right? Antfrost was a somewhat-thick guy, having wavy brown hair that clearly was well taken care of. He had a loud personality, and frankly Dream found it annoying. His volume completely drowned out the other three and at this point he was ready to duct tape his mouth shut. George and his three friends sat together at a table, leaning forward and clinking their glasses of champagne together. "Cheers!" They said in unison, bringing the glasses to their lips and taking sips. 

"Oh yes, Happy Birthday!" George cheered, raising his glass high. He was slightly tipsy already, Dream wouldn't put it past him considering how small he was. George could probably drink one or two shots of vodka and he'd be lights out.

Antfost let out a laugh, loud and boisterous. "Thank you so much!" He had a grin on his face. Dream noticed had pretty sharp teeth. Not enough to be too noticeable and not enough to look like a vampire, but they were slightly sharper than the average humans. _And they all had expensive taste in lives as well, once again leaving George the odd one out._

"Ready?" George asked, leaning to the right and picking up a green paper sack that he had stored underneath his chair until it became time. He seemed excited about this, a huge smile plastered over his face. Dream would like to point out that when he smiled, he had no wrinkles, no face blemishes, he truly was perfect. His eyes lit up with passion for his friend, but to be honest Dream could barely tell if it was the alcohol talking or if George was just faking it.

Antfrost took the gift rather hastily, mumbling out a quick thank you before tearing into it. He ripped out the wrapping paper, not giving a damn about the environment as he dropped it to the floor. Antfrost gasped, looking from George to the gift as he reached into the bag He pulled out a red velvet scarf, eyes brightening with delight. The scarf was made of the best material and looked incredibly expensive, judging from where Dream was sitting at the bar. He was just drinking a glass of wine, not too much but enough to look normal in a place like this.

"Do you like it?" George asked, clapping his hands together. He was excited just for giving gifts and Dream found that unbelievably cute.

"No, I hate it," Antfrost said, rolling his eyes. George recoiled slightly in confusion, but then Antfrost barked out a laugh that shook the entire table. "Of course I love it!"

Sitting across from George sat Sapnap, and Dream had only known him for a few minutes and he felt a sever mistrust towards the other male. He was the richest out of all four, Dream didn't know why. His hair was shiny and perfectly conditioned, his skin flawless topped off with a deep tan. He had black gauges of the most fine material in his ears and his clothes were far too nice to be at such a dump like this. On his smooth hands he had black nails that were extremely well done. Dream couldn't tell if they were acrylics or he somehow managed to grow his nails out like that. His skin was smooth and flawless, much like George's. He had a white bandanna wrapped around his forehead tightly, his black hair pushed back revealing the slit in one of his eyebrows. Sapnap's eyes were a vibrant blue that Dream had never seen before, and they were calm and relaxed. He was short but he had muscle. He had the presence of someone who thought they were better than everyone around him, a strong god complex that made Dream's head spin. There was something about him that just put Dream oh so on edge, and the way he flaunted his money and power made Dream want to burn him alive. Even his voice sounded rich, with how he spoke so casual like he didn't have a care in the world. 

Sapnap leaned forward, putting his head on his hands that were decked out in bracelets and rings. Who knew how much just his forearms had cost. "His boyfriend didn't even get him something that nice, and Ant finally let him do anal!" Sapnap chided, amusement sparking in his eyes when watching Antfrost's jaw drop and eyes widen in horror at the fact he just spilled this.

George laughed so hard he almost choked on his champagne, and Bad who was sitting next to Ant started freaking out at this. "Oh my god!" He squeaked, hands going to his mouth. "Sapnap come on, watch it!"

Sapnap rolled his eyes and shrugged. "Please, please, please, it was time." He shook his head, glancing at George who was still recovering from his laugh attack. Sapnap lifted another bag over the table, handing it to Ant with a prideful smile on his face. Even his teeth looked expensive, dazzling white and unrealistically straight. "Open my gift next and tell me how much you hate me then, man."

Ant stuck his tongue out at Sapnap, and George let out a happy sigh as he collected his breath. He reached into the bag, feeling around before puling out a small box. He blinked in excitement and confusion, popping open the box and letting out a small gasp. "A cat?" His head snapped up to look at Sapnap who was beaming. "It's my spirit animal for the year! You remembered!" He said happily, honestly shocked.

Sitting in the small box, was a bedazzled cat necklace. The charm itself was littered in small diamonds and the silver chain sparkled. It had to be expensive, considering the way it shimmered in the light. Those looked to be real jewels and Dream was surprised Sapnap would be willing to spend money on someone he didn't really care about. It was a detailed necklace too, with whiskers and eyes, the entire package.

Sapnap scoffed. "Only 'cause you wouldn't shut up about it." Antfrost said something in return, but it got lost in the background as Dream focused on the entire reason he was putting up with this shit. George was looking at each of his friends with wonder, eyes filled with jealousy and want. Dream groaned inwardly, leaning his head onto his hand. _You want so badly to be one of them._ Dream didn't know why - George didn't need to be changed, but the way he looked at them was like a starved puppy after not feeding it for days. He was trying so hard to be like them. It had to be exhausting.

After about an hour of so of nonstop talk and gossip, it was finally time for them to depart. At least... Bad and Ant. George gave Ant a tight squeeze, saying happy birthday for the millionth time that night. They made quick chatter, Sapnap complimenting their outfits (clearly he didn't mean it, but the other's thought he did so I guess that's enough, right?) Bad finally convinced Ant it was time to leave, practically dragging the birthday boy out of the building.

 _Well, they've got nothing to do after this._ Dream thought to himself, taking a sip of the drink that he had ordered who knows how long ago. It was watered down and gross, but it was one of those things that was at the back of your mind as you focused on something else. _So yeah, they'll party until 5:00 and scrape it together tomorrow. But you can't. You have to work for a living._

With Bad and Antfrost gone, it left just Sapnap and George to discuss things. Dream wasn't pleased with this whatsoever, he still didn't trust Sapnap and was just waiting for the moment for Sapnap to do something that oversteps and he'll have to intervene. Well, maybe not intervene, but he wanted a better read on him before he could make a final judgement on the male. Sapnap looked around for a second, before swirling the straw in his drink and raising a brow at the brunette. "A McQueen scarf, George? How much was it?"

George chuckled, face flushing red all of a sudden. "It was on clearance." He tried to say, but even Dream knew that was a filthy excuse. George was either a very good liar one second or the worst liar he'd ever seen the next. Dream wasn't sure if he enjoyed this, but it was what it was and he'd be able to put up with it. He'd prefer it if George was truthful, it's a fantastic quality one can have.

"They haven't put a McQueen scarf on clearance since he hung himself in 2010. It'd be too much even if Ant did deserve it, which, let's be honest, he does not." Sapnap said truthfully, bringing the straw to his lips and taking a drink. His vibrant blue eyes never left George's brown while he said that as well. He saw through that lie as if it had been hidden behind a clear glass window.

Dream wouldn't lie - he was pleasantly surprised at this. _Not all your friends are dumb._ It took balls for someone to say that about one friend to another, and George didn't know how to react to this. He shifted in his seat, looking down at his fingers. Dream appreciated his honesty, maybe the raven haired male wasn't that bad? Maybe he could allow them to stay friends, just maybe. It'd be a stretch, but the night was still going and he wasn't done evaluating Sapnap.

"You always do this. You make, like, a big gesture that you can't afford because..." Sapnap paused, brushing a strand of his soft and fluffy black hair behind his ear. He scoffed, looking George up and down. "I'm sorry, you're too nice." He was ruthless, the bluntness in his voice could not go unnoticed, and it was obvious by the way George shrunk down he felt bad.

George bit his lip again, shaking his head. "It's no big deal, really! I um, I had a gift card." He looked down again, not being able to meet Sapnap's eyes. How could he, after all, Sapnap is seeing through his soul and picking his life apart one minor yet somehow major detail at a time. He fiddled with his hands, intertwining his fingers back and forth uncomfortably.

Sapnap took a deep breath, pushing his drink aside. He ran another hand through his hair, ruffling it up a bit. "How broke are you? Just tell me what's up."

Dream cocked his head, trying to get a better listen. _It actually sounds like he cares._ That was strange, considering the person he was talking to. The hierarchy and their places in the social classes were complete opposites, so why on earth were they friends and at the same time why was Sapnap so caring towards George? It just didn't add up at all. And to make matters worse, Dream couldn't decide if he trusted Sapnap or not.

"Why don't you just let me loan you some cash? Okay? I keep telling you it's nothing." Sapnap offered. Dream laughed. _Also, sounds condescending._ Sapnap continued, though. "You know I'd do anything for you. Don't forget that." There was something in his voice when he said that, something that Dream couldn't put his finger on. Sapnap cared for George, but in a way Dream didn't understand. But maybe Sapnap could be trusted, maybe-

All of Dream's thoughts subsided and a sudden feeling of hostility washed over him. He just realized Sapnap was squeezing George's hand, looking at him with trustful eyes. When did that happen?? He cursed himself for letting his guard down. Dream didn't want anybody else touching George, it just wasn't right. They both were leaning over the table, holding hands as if they were star-crossed lovers. It just didn't feel right. Almost like it was too good to be true. A shiver raked down his spine for a few seconds and he lowered his head.

He calmed down when Sapnap pulled his hand off of George's after he gave the Brit a solid and firm squeeze. "Sure you can't come with us?" He asked, bringing them together as he tilted his head.

"I gotta write." George said softly, but there was a very big smile on his face. He cared for Sapnap, that was very obvious in the way he interacted with him and the trust in their eyes. Dream on the other hand...

Sapnap winked, a flirtatious and effortless gesture that had George rolling. "Virtuous. Catch you later?" He said as he stood, touching George's shoulder before turning and heading towards the exit. George sat there in the chair, bringing a glass to his lips as he took a drink. When he set it down, Dream saw a look of loneliness and loss cross on his face and it hurt to look at.

 _Is that the best friend you've got?_ Dream wondered. He stood up, swinging his backpack over his shoulders. He walked past George, head spinning once more as he tried to gather his thoughts. _If so, George, you really are alone._

//

After a long day of school and celebrating Antfrost's birthday, George finally made it home. He unlocked his apartment, pushing the door open before stepping in and slamming it shut behind him. He reached into the fridge and pulled out a soda with a sigh. He looked almost defeated. _Your social media's a liar. It says you're a happy go lucky individual._

Dream was standing outside his apartment once again by the tree, this time wearing a much thicker hoodie with jeans. He was leaning against the tree with a blank expression, just watching George and what he did after a long day.

George removed his jean jacket that he had been wearing, leaving him in his white short sleeved shirt. He ran his hands through his hair. He ruffled it up before reaching into the air and stretching with a yawn. His back cracked and he winced, wanting to sleep but knowing that he still had a lot to and that sleep currently wasn't an option. _But, underneath it all, you seem like a genuine article._ George fell onto his bed once again, pulling his laptop closer and popping it open effortlessly. He had a content expression on his face, despite how he was really feeling. _Stretched ADD thin, sure, but as soon as the door closes, you're back at the keyboard trying to write._

George begins to type, just starting to get his thoughts out when suddenly his phone buzzes. He pauses, wondering who would be texting him this late at night. He sat up and reached into his pocket, pulling out his phone. Dream had no idea who it was. With the way George reacted he had a feeling it was nothing good. George looked at his phone and his face flashed with annoyance, swinging himself off the bed before walking over to the window and looking out.

Dream followed his gaze, eyes landing on a taxi cab that had just pulled out. A man stepped out, holding his phone in his hands as he rubbed the back of his neck with the sleeve of his leather jacket. "Keep the change, man." He called out to the cab driver, who waved at him for thanks. The man turned and hurried across the street, doing that quick and awkward shuffle people do when they need to cross but don't want to take up any more time. Dream didn't know who it was, but they were unbelievably familiar. 

Dream ducked behind the tree knowing he wouldn't be seen but you could never be too cautious. He watched in confusion as the stranger booked it up the stairs, seeing George in the window and pointing to the door. "Hey! Let me up!" He ordered. George looked down at him less than pleased. George didn't move for a solid thirty seconds, and after the guy continued to be persistent he eventually hurried down and opened the door, inviting him in. 

Dream narrowed his eyes, feeling a pit of anger rise in his stomach and up to his chest.

_Uh, George, who the fuck is this?_

Dream couldn't hear what was going on, but it was obvious they were having a very heated argument. George was standing at the far end of the couch in his living room. His back was to Dream as he held a blanket in his hands while the somewhat familiar guy stood across from him. He would start to say something, and George would respond with something that clearly upset him. The newcomer would put his hands on his head in attempt to block out what George was saying. Dream had a feeling George must have been livid. Even though he couldn't see the brunette's face, his actions said it all. The familiarity of this man nagging at Dream, his face looked so recognizable like it was on the tip of his tongue.

George folded the blanket in his hands, not giving any thought into making it look presentable. He looked up at the newcomer, lip raised in a snarl and eyes narrowed. "My best friend walked in on you getting your dick sucked by some random guy in a bathroom at a party that I took you to!" He said angrily, voice thick with annoyance and rage. He clearly wasn't in the mood for this man and wanted him gone.

"I was wasted," he replied, stepping forward slightly. When George didn't budge, he brought his hands together for a split second. "I didn't even finish-"

George scoffed as he slammed the blanket onto the end of the couch. "That's your apology? 'I didn't cum.' That's the one you're going with?" He said in utter disbelief. It was hard for him to even believe those words had just came out of this man's mouth, and he had the audacity to show up late on a school night?

"I obviously shouldn't have gone in the bathroom with any guy that wasn't you." His words came out fast, like he was just rambling on. You could tell by his actions that he was desperate, but Geore didn't look he was going to be phased. He shifted on his feet, crossing his arms and looking the man up and down. He clearly didn't have any sense of fashion - that or he couldn't afford it, with his knock off brand leather jacket complete with a flannel wrapped around his waist. George sensed a 'but', and wasn't surprised when he was met with one. "But he said he had good coke, and I'd been seriously stressed."

He sighed, bringing his hands to his head and rubbing it like he had a headache, before gesturing to the right at nothing. "I thought, when Johno and I started our line, it was gonna be like picking out flavors and shit. It turns out it's sixteen hour lectures on microbial management. And that's why no one starts their own soda company and why America has to keep drinking crap that's giving them cancer-"

"You actually managed to connect your illicit blowjob to curing cancer," George said loudly, eyes widening in confusion. "I'm genuinely impressed." His words were soaked with sarcasm and the longer he looked at him the more his blood began to boil. George wanted him gone, so he began to walk forward and head to his room but the other stepped in front of him, blocking his exit by holding his hands out and pushing him back. 

"George, I-" He tried, reaching out towards the Brit.

George rolled his eyes, slapping his hands away. They pressed into the other's chest, and he looked up at him with a sharp ferocity in his eyes. "Seriously. I am drowning in work. I don't have time to keep hooking up or whatever it is you're even capable of." George snapped, not even caring if he hurt feelings at this point. He was tired and had things to do, and expected him to leave.

Surprise, surprise, he didn't.

"I know I've done some stupid shit, but I'm on it now." He mumbled, hands gently gripping George's shoulders. He pulled George closer, who stared at him with a look of pure disgust and annoyance. "I don't wanna be just some guy you sleep with."

He then stepped closer, fully closing the gap between the two. He held George close, keeping their chests flushed together. One of his hands trailed up George's neck and into his hair. He ran his fingers through George's brown locks while allowing the other hand to swing around and caress his back. George inhaled sharply, skin burning everywhere he touched. It was like fire, and not the warm-fuzzy, welcoming way. The taller brought his head down to George's level, pressing his lips onto his neck.

It burned. His kisses were sharp and red hot, they were hungry and desperate. "God, you make me insane." He said into George's skin, enjoying the feeling of George beginning to tremble underneath him. George's brain went fuzzy and no matter how much his body told him to stop, it refused and he eventually allowed the blood to rush down. He was stuck between a rock and a hard place, he could either tell this man to get off of him and leave or he could allow this to continue...

 _This is the last time._ He thought to himself, before closing his eyes and letting his body relax. The other purred at his, trailing his hand down farther and giving his ass a squeeze before pushing George over the side of the couch and onto his back, falling on top of the Brit only moments after.

Dream was watching this all go down with a blank expression on his face, his mind empty as he knew he couldn't do anything to intervene.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! If you made it this far congrats, you're a trooper. My writing isn't the best and I'm doing this just for fun, but I do appreciate the support. Your comments make my day! Please do head the warning, things are going to start taking a turn "for the worse" and next chapter will probably pick up the pace. Please, please, if you are uncomfortable with anything click off instead of leaving a hate comment or something like that.


	4. Pilot (Chapter 1 Part 4)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> PLEASE READ THIS FIRST!!! This chapter is filled with sexual content as Dream learns about the man that showed up at George's apartment at such ungodly hours. IF YOU ARE UNCOMFORTABLE WITH SMUT !!!! You do NOT have to read this chapter. I purposefully wrote it in a way that allows people that do not wish to read it have an option to pass over it. Because of this, a short summary of this chapter will be written at the end notes for those that don't want to read the smut. There is no hate and no judgement if you do or don't, I want everyone to enjoy this so I made it this way on purpose. As previously stated, this is an explicit fanfic and will be indulging in heavy topics that are quite sinister, which is the entire point of this fanfic. Again: If you do not wish to read this chapter, you can skip to the end notes where there is a brief summary. Thank you for your time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do not share this with any of the content creators mentioned/anyone famous (?) in reality. This is just a story not meant to cause harm towards anyone, and involves online personas not the real creators themselves. If they have any issues I will not hesitate taking this down.

_Way to go, George. Looks like a catch._ Dream thought bitterly, clenching his teeth as he watched what unfolded before him. He wanted to look, he wanted nothing more than to watch as George succumbed to the other but at the same time it was like watching your heart get ripped out of your chest while you're still alive. It was torture, to say the least. Dream felt a burning hatred towards the man that was currently overpowering the brunette and needed to figure out who he was right now or he'd lose it. 

He pried his eyes away from the scene in front of him. He ignored the tightening of his pants, that would pose an issue later but as of now Dream only had one focus. He grabbed his phone and tried to stay steady yet his hands were shaking more than he would like them to. Dream needed to calm down now, before he did something he'd regret. He quickly pulled up George's socials once more, thumbing the screen a few times before landing on something that was incredibly helpful. There was a picture of the man George was with now. It's no wonder he was familiar. It was the same guy from earlier. He should have recognized him by the greasy hair and awful posture. With an undignified snort, he tapped on the picture and then the name that led him to this mysterious man's profile.

 _Wow. His name was Luke, but everyone just calls him Punz._ Dream read. He rolled his eyes at such a ridiculous name. If George thought his name was bad, how the hell did he manage to get caught up with this guy? He scrolled down a little bit, determined to get more information. _Greenwich born, boarding-school bred. His father is the CEO and front-runner of one of the biggest financial companies in the city._ So he was rich and had a somewhat good reputation. Dream was starting to see a pattern, and that was that George certainly had a type. Richer than him, well known amongst others, usually popular and if not on their way to that - that was definitely a red flag, but at the same time Dream doesn't really blame him. You've got to get money somehow or another, right?

But this... this just felt like it was too far. Still he wanted to know more, so he diverted his attention back to his phone. _Two failed careers. Model. Oh boy. And, co creator of a dating app that connects people through musical tastes._ Dream couldn't help but want to gag at the pictures - if he thought Sapnap had a god complex, this man must have thought he was the big bang himself. Almost off of them were of him shirtless, flexing his muscles and tryharding to look like what the typical beauty standards are. It was revolting, really, and once again Dream just couldn't believe George associated himself with this person. Dream was always one to tell the truth though.

Punz looked like he could be a good guy. He cleaned up nice, and beneath that scruffy beard and greasy hair there was potential. In the right lighting his hair was actually a stunning blonde, lighter than Dream's was, in fact. His eyes were stark blue. If Punz tried and actually cared about his appearance outside of parties and fake modelling he'd probably manage to be a somewhat nice guy. He had light scruff on his chin, but clearly he'd let it go. Judging from when Dream saw him leave the taxi it was messy and overgrown. It was such a shame, though, that Punz let the bad life get under his skin. He'd spiraled into a mess of drugs, alcohol and a sex drive with a certain Brit.

Dream continued. _Current CEO of Home Soda Artisanal Beverages... Motto: "Drink better by hand," which makes no sense but evokes a homespun quality that lines up with a guy that wears six hundred dollar Japanese sneakers._ Punz was rich, of course he was. He had his own soda company, because that's something you see everyday. After studying him for a few more seconds, he stopped. Dream hadn't noticed before but he had turned away from the apartment fully and had started walking in a random direction. He didn't even know his legs went into autopilot, taking him away from the ultimate thing he had been avoiding and didn't want to confront at all. Yet, the farther he got the more his brain told him to turn around. After thinking about it for a few seconds, he gave in and went back to his favorite tree.

He looked up into the apartment. He was able to see Punz as he lifted his shirt above his head, tossing it aside without a care before gripping George's naked thighs and lifting his hips up. George wrapped his legs around his waist, squeezing tightly as Punz dove back down onto the smaller boy. He couldn't see what he did, but clearly it got a reaction from George because his legs kicked out and his body jerked upwards. Dream bit his lip, forcing him to look away again and focus on learning more about Punz. It's not like it mattered, Dream hated the guy anyways and that wasn't going to change. It was good to pick his life apart piece by piece and learn his weaknesses, however. _The hair, the privileges, he tries to hide it with retweets of Black Lives Matter. Not to sound judgey, but this guy is everything wrong with America._

And though Dream didn't want to, and though his brain told him to stop, he couldn't help it. His eyes made their way back to the window. What he saw made his stomach churn both in arousal and hurt. Punz had brought George up just enough to give Dream the perfect view of their little festivities. George's hands were wrapped around Punz's back as he bucked his hips, sliding up and down on his cock rather smoothly. It was simple and blunt, they were going at record speeds as Punz's nails dug into the rear of George, eyes rolling into the back of his head with raw pleasure. George's body flexed and twisted with every thrust. Punz fucked up into his ass, George's legs shaking and squeezing as Punz went harder and faster. Their skin flushed red and bodies not separating once.

They were ruthless, like savage animals that hadn't gotten off in a hot minute. Punz then snaked his hand up George's neck. His fingers ran through his fluffy locks before clamping down and yanking back. George's head was thrown back roughly which gave Dream just the right angle to see his red face. George's eyes were scrunched, mouth open in the perfect O in pure bliss and pleasure. His lips were a dark red, bruised and abused but they'd heal before the nights end. Punz must have said something interesting because George's body shook before Punz attacked his neck once more and forced him to disappear just outside of the window frame. Dream cursed at this, wanting to see more of George's body then Punz's bony spine.

 _You fall for the wrong men. Bad men. You let them in, you let them hurt you._ Dream thought, eyes never leaving the pair as Punz's erotic hip movements began to slow, George's slender fingers running up and down Punz's back and giving his ass a push in a last ditch effort to keep him going. After a few tension filled moments, Punz's hips stuttered and his body relaxed. George's thighs released him and his arms fell to his sides. The two stayed together for a few seconds, breathing in sync. _Too far away to know for sure, but my guess is, if he came anywhere close to making you come, you'd have made a Broadway show out of it. But you didn't... 'cause he didn't._

Punz stepped into his pants, pulling them up to his hips before fastening them tightly. He was breathing heavily, meanwhile George was sitting on the couch awkwardly. He'd gabbed a shirt and slipped it back on. He brought the blanket he had previously folded over his naked and exposed legs. He didn't allow himself to meet Punz's eyes, he couldn't, not after what he had just done. Punz ran a hand through his hair, sensing the tension before sitting down and reaching for his phone. His hand knocked into something that fell to the ground and out of common courtesy he reached and picked it up. He flipped it over in his hands and raised a brow. "Desperate characters?" He read aloud, squinting at the cover.

"Yeah, I just got it. You can borrow it when I'm done. It's supposed to be the best." George replied, curling up to the blanket that was on his lap. He had a slight cheeriness to him, it was worth at least trying to strike up a normal conversation especially after it's all said and done. He felt gross and used. George wouldn't dare say this aloud though, who knows what Punz might say.

Punz nodded, tossing the book back onto the table that he had knocked it from. "Ponk's assistant we brought in, he's been all over me about this kinda thing." He started, hands working fast and tightening his belt once again. "Saged the crap out of the office. The book title has the word desperate in it... you don't want to think of yourself as a desperate character, George." He bent down and began putting on his shoes. George couldn't help but roll his eyes. There was just no stopping with him, was there? He just can't catch a break. George took a deep breath, before lifting himself off of the couch. Punz's hand shot out and clamped around his wrist tightly, earning a small yelp from George.

Both of their eyes locked. George's heart was pounding and for a split second he didn't know what Punz was about to do. After an awkward moment, Punz flashed him a pretty decent smile that was actually sincere. "Because you're the opposite babe. You're the smartest guy I know."

Punz's hand moved up his arm, giving it a gentle rub that George would rather die than admit actually felt nice, considering how their... run? Just now had been so rough. "Honestly, you blow me away." He said smoothly, giving his arm a squeeze before leaning forward and pressing his lips against George's.

It was an uncomfortable feeling, one that felt cold and distant. It just didn't feel right. George doesn't remember the last time a kiss felt right. He didn't even bother returning the kiss, instead he just sat there in tense silence until Punz's phone lit up and completely ruined the moment (or what there was of a moment) Punz pulled away from George and without a second glance grabbed his phone and stood. "Oh, shit. Gotta roll. Ponk is blowing up my phone."

He must of saw the look of awe on George's face, because he paused his frantic movements enough to give George a somewhat passionate smile. This one was much more forced and less realistic. "Hey, you should come by the office, test out some new flavors." When he saw no reaction from George, he pushed on further. "We could maybe do some uh, British flavors or something like that..."

Did he just - after all this - fuck, Punz really was clueless. Appeasing to his British side wasn't going to do anything. George decided it'd be easier to just give him what he wants, as if he hadn't done that already. "Sure, sounds good." He gave Punz the satisfaction of a very half-hearted laugh, not wanting to be around him anymore. He wanted Punz gone as much as Punz wanted to leave.

"One more thing, George," Punz started, turning back to face the Brit. George looked up at him expectantly, wondering why on earth he was still. Punz's eyes scanned George's body, looking him up and down before giving him a slight nod. "You should probably put on some weight. I don't want you to be all skin and bone."

George's eyes widened in surprise. His hands immediately went to his chest, insecurities washing over him like a tidal wave. His jaw dropped, but Punz didn't even see that as he pressed a button on his phone before bringing it to his ear with one hand and slipping into the jacket he had brought with the other. "Yeah, hey. I'm on my way bro. You guys ordering pizzas?" A pause as he reached past George to grab his bag, swinging it over his shoulder and turning around without a second thought. "Yeah, don't dick me over like last time. Gluten free crust."

And with that, Punz walked right out of George's apartment, leaving him stranded on the couch. The door open and closed carelessly, and George let out a long, drawn out sigh of relief. He felt gross. That definitely wasn't worth it. He should have known that Punz was going to come here and take advantage of him, but at the same time he should have told him to leave. This was equally George's fault as it was Punz's, and honestly he was extremely disappointed with himself. He looked up at the ceiling for a few seconds, pondering his life and wondering how he managed to get here. Where exactly in his life did he go wrong? After being alone with his thoughts for a while, he breathed out before letting his body relax as he fell back onto the couch.

George could barely understand how Punz had just said that to his face. George was just... naturally skinny. He had a fast metabolism and he wasn't the biggest fan of eating. When he did eat, though, it was usually unhealthy things. George had tried to gain weight before. It was hard, people don't understand that. They automatically assume that his life his perfect since he had defined hips and thin arms. First off, it was the farthest thing from perfect, and second, he didn't want to be as skinny as he was. He was healthy, of course he was, but he knew that it would probably be beneficial to gain a few pounds.

It was one thing knowing in the back of your mind that you should gain weight, and a completely different other when someone actually told you to, especially right after you let him fuck you.

Biting his lip, George still had a final problem. Punz may be gone, sure, but he was still hard and now he was horny. He had to get what Punz had just said out of his mind The least that selfish bastard could have done was let him finish, but of course he didn't. With a groan, he forced himself to sit up. Slowly he peeled the blanket away from his legs, grimacing at the liquids that were still on him. Any other day George would get it off of him as fast as possible since it simply disgusted him, but tonight he had one goal. His normally fluffy hair was sticking to his forehead with sweat and he felt sticky and nasty. His eyes scanned the room for a few seconds, before reaching forward, fingers clasping the edge of one of his circular neck pillows. A man's gotta do what a man's gotta do, right? And he was just so upset, he owed himself this.

Dream snapped back into reality when he heard a door slam, nearly jumping out of his skin when he saw Punz storm down the stairs of the apartment screaming into the phone about gluten free pizza. He jumped back, slamming into the tree a little harder than he intended. His heart was pounding as Punz called out another taxi before climbing into it, and almost as fast as he was there, he was gone. Dream closed his eyes briefly, shaking off the feeling of fear that had just wafted over him. It's not like Punz could have done anything anyways. It's just the overall fear of getting caught watching two people go at it wasn't something he'd ever thought he'd experience. Shaking his body back into the present, his fingers curled around the tree before he peaked his head back out. It wouldn't kill him to get one last look at George, in all his afterglow glory.

Except that's not what he saw when he looked back into the apartment. George had fallen back onto his back, legs spread with a pillow sitting tightly between his thighs. Dream glanced around. He noticed that behind him there were stairs that led to another apartment complext. He stumbled up them, gaining as much ground as possible before turning back around to witness the beauty in front of him. It was so much better without Punz blocking the view of George. He looked stunning, head thrown back against the arm of the couch as he maneuvered his hips into the pillow, retracting and releasing his thighs every few seconds. His movements were methodical, but the faster George went the sloppier his thrusts were as he got closer and closer to what he truly wanted.

 _So you didn't finish._ He thought, feeling his legs go weak. His mind was slipping away from him as he sat down on the furthest step, fingers working fast at his belt. He hissed when he reached into his pants only to touch himself with an ice cold hand. The initial shock went away as he wrapped his hand around his appendage and breathed in sharply.

Suddenly he was in the room with George, staring down at his meek figure. George hadn't noticed him yet. He was still bucking his hips to get any friction against his throbbing crotch. He was practically leaking puddles at this point, face red and body jerking, straining just to feel. George's head was thrown so far back his neck was exposed, showing his beautiful adam's apple that bobbed with each ragged breath that the Brit took. George was still wearing Punz's shirt, but his legs were uncovered and free. He let out a lewd moan, body jerking another time before he opened his eyes to see Dream standing there with a massive smirk on his face.

George let out a weak gasp, allowing a smile to take over. He tossed the pillow he was helplessly grinding against aside. George forced himself to sit up as Dream made his way forward. He reached out and grabbed Dream's wrist, pulling him down onto the couch. Dream lifted the smaller up and settled himself down so George was pinned underneath him. He looked up at Dream with wide eyes, lips parted and face flushed. Dream brought a hand forward and pushed the strands of hair covering his face aside to get a better look at the boy. George's hands reached up to caress Dream's cheek with gentle fingers.

George wasn't known of his patience, though. His hands moved down and he dug his nails into Dream's clothed thighs, trailing down and pressing against his crotch. This was the cue that Dream had needed. He brought a hand behind George's neck and forced him closer. Their lips attached in a fierce kiss. It was searing hot, but unlike the one with Punz it was passionate and meant something. It wasn't just about the sex, but at the same time Dream had never wanted anything more. He bit on George's bottom lip asking for entrance. George opened immediately, allowing the tall blonde to slip his tongue in and mix their saliva. While he was doing so, his hand slipped down and palmed him in return, which made George shiver and release a moan into the kiss. His body melted under Dream's. Dream couldn't help but feel nothing but euphoria at the feeling of overpowering such a small individual.

George's hands clawed at Dream's shirt and it didn't take him long to know what he wanted. He broke the kiss for a split second, allowing George to practically rip Dream's shirt over his head and toss it aside before pulling him back into a hungry kiss. This one was more sloppy and persistent, now Dream was losing patience. He had to pull away again, this made George whine at the loss of touch. Dream chuckled at this. He quickly unbuttoned his jeans and shifted his weight in order to kick them off. While Dream was preoccupied with this, George managed to slip out of his own shirt and let it fall to the ground. The moment all clothes were gone, Dream was tired of waiting. He had George underneath him and begging for release. He wouldn't dare miss out on this opportunity.

He gave George a kiss just for assurance, before spreading his legs and settling between them. His hands grasped at the skin of his inner thighs. After a few seconds of admiring his curves, he knew it was time. Dream fell forward, wrapping his hands around the back of George. He propped him up, angling his hips and then pushed himself in until he bottomed out. The noise George let out alone was enough to make Dream cream right on the spot but he fought the urges. George's body accepted him and George swore he could feel Dream just pulsing in side of him. He felt George's hands on his shoulders as he squeezed, nails digging into his flesh hard enough to leave half-mooned marks on the freckled shoulders that belonged to the blonde.

"Fuck," Dream cursed out, head spinning at the feeling of him inside George. Despite the recent activity George was incredibly tight. He gave the Brit a moment to adjust while in turn giving himself a few seconds to take in his reaction. George was holding his breath, shuddering slightly as he waited for the slight pain to cross the threshold and into pleasure. It was obvious when it had, because George let out a wanton moan and his face flushed a deep read. Dream groaned inwardly, pulling his hips back then shoving back in. George grunted at this and it was evident he was trying to hold back his noises. Dream moved so his chest was flush against George's. He kept him close, then repeated the previous motion.

"Just like that," George whined when Dream had angled his hips in just the right position before snapping up into George. George cried out in ecstasy when Dream hit a certain spot. He lowered himself further, then rammed into the spot that made him see stars. Dream panted into his neck, squeezing his eyes shut and directing his energy to pleasing the man beneath him. His breath was hot and heavy, not giving the Brit any time to recover. He groaned into the Brit's neck as he felt George arch his back in pleasure. This sent a bolt of electricity shooting through his spine, his nerves shot. George just felt so good, Dream's massive hands moved to George's hips as he began aiding in the thrusts. This took away any power George could even think of having.

The familiar heat in his stomach was growing more and more as he got closer to his release. Dream grunted, hips stuttering into George as his mind was starting to lose focus. George was squirming underneath him, not wanting to stay too still but also not wanting to mess Dream up. His voice was coming out in broken whines and whimpers as he begged for more, moving a hand into Dream's blonde hair and pulling. Dream growled lowly, opening his eyes to get a good look at George. He was a mess, lips swollen and brown hair plastered to his forehead with sweat. His brown eyes were filled with want and need, and the way his mouth moved as he begged for Dream to go harder and faster was making him lose his mind. "Nnngh, please, Dream please-" George cried out. His body slowly starting to spasm as he neared his release.

Dream was so close. All he needed was a few more seconds until he could release everything into George and call it a night. At least he was about to, when a sudden burst of noise ripped him from his thoughts. His eyes widened and his head snapped around. He realized he wasn't inside with George. He was sitting on the stairs of the apartment across from George's, hand in his pants and heart pounding. Another clang caught his attention and he jumped, body whirling around to see someone struggling to get a suitcase outside of the building he was currently getting it off at. Out of a fit of blind panic, he stuffed his dick back into his pants before standing up at lightning speed. He zipped up his pants, turning to see that it was an old lady who was having issues getting her suitcase out of her apartment.

He reached forward and grabbed it, lifting it easily over the small crack in the floor that it had gotten stuck on. She looked up him with surprise, before giving him one of those old grandma smiles. "Thank you! You're so kind," she chuckled, bringing a hand to her mouth and politely covering her laugh as if she was coughing. "I don't suppose you can help me catch a cab, can you?"

"Of course!" Dream said cheerfully, picking up the suitcase again with one hand and setting it down at the bottom of the stairs. The old lady stayed preoccupied with her purse, fishing through it for any change she could find. Dream raised his hand and waited patiently for a cab to come by, in the meantime he cast a glance back at George's apartment.

Much to his dismay, he had missed the big finish. George was standing up now, cracking his neck and flexing his muscles before shaking his body and walking away. Disappearing into the night, and it'd be an understatement to say that Dream was pissed. He felt anger creep up into his spine as if it were a spider crawling up its web. At the same time, though, he knew he had to keep his cool and help out this lady. That's what the good citizen would do, therefore that's what he was going to do.

Oh, but that didn't mean he had to like it or even be happy for that matter because God knows he was fucking livid.

He couldn't stand to stay there any second longer. As soon as they lady got into her cab, he had turned tail and fled the scene. A world of emotions was swirling around in his mind. At this point he didn't know if he was more disgusted or just simply angered at what had just went down. George didn't deserve to be treated like that, for some random man to come over and use him. It was obvious he wanted more. The gentle touch of a significant other or the warm embrace after a long night. He was touch starved in all the wrong ways. Dream knew he could treat him better, George just needed to give him a chance. As far as the first day of observing it was safe to say he was less than pleased with the events that had gone down tonight.

It was more unnerving than it should have be. Dream for some odd reason felt betrayed, even though he knew George had no idea that he had just watched all of that go down. Even if he did, would the scenario have changed? Would George still have done it with Punz? There was so much more to the Brit than he could have guessed. Part of it made Dream happy - the thrill of the chase. He liked playing hard to get and if that's what George wanted to do then what was stopping him? Dream knew he'd have to come up with a plan eventually on how he'd want to confront George... but in the current moment he just felt upset. He knew he was being ridiculous. George was a grown man (despite his looks) and he had all the rights in the world to fuck with who he wanted.

That didn't make it any easier, though. And to top it all off Dream didn't even get to finish himself so whoop-de-doo. When it's all said and done, he at least managed to learn a lot about the Brit in the small period of time. He just needed to stay positive and look at the bright side. Sure, Dream didn't like his friends and sure, Dream wasn't in the best of moods due to the current events but he spent a day with George and that's enough to keep him happy. Even after everything that had happened he observed George and learned about him which was more than he could ask for considering the circumstances he was presented with.

After putting more thoughts into this he came to the conclusion that today was a win. That's the most he could ask for, and despite it all he was heading home with a content smile on his face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to the notes of this chapter which are going to be very important! For those of you who read this chapter, I hope you enjoyed! If you didn't like it, please be kind and just not leave a comment or anything hateful. It takes a few days to write something and proofread it (I am by myself on this) so if you don't like it I'm sorry I hope you enjoy the other chapters! Anyways, for those who haven't read the chapter do not feel pressured! I understand if you aren't comfortable with things like that so there is no judgement :) Because of this here is your summary!!
> 
> Dream needs to distract himself while George does the dirty so he decides to research the man who George is with! This man turns out to be Punz (once again, NOT REAL LIFE! FICTIONAL CHARACTERS!) Punz is the son of the CEO of a very well known financial company. Dream does more research, and finds out that he's the owner of a Soda Company, he had a career in the model field (failed) and he's very full of himself. Punz had a great childhood and an even better adulthood but he isn't the nicest. After he finishes with George, he just leaves him behind. George is left to his own devices while Dream has a fantasy about him, before getting interrupted and having to cut things short. He goes home and weighs the options.


	5. Pilot (Chapter 1 Part 5)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> NOTICE: I have received numerous requests to change the characters. For those of you who found my socials and DMed me, hey, how you doin', don't pull a Dream I like my privacy :D I don't mind that you found my socials but please don't pressure me into doing something or releasing more chapters until I want to! But yeah, a lot of people wanted to change Tubbo to Fundy and make the girlfriend of Wilbur, Sally. It makes sense and I appreciate the numerous people who asked respectfully. I'm always open to change so please go ahead and ask! If you don't like the change please let me know and I'll see how the responses take this and will make changes accordingly.
> 
> Summary: Dream gets home after a long day, only to leave once again but this time with actual company. He shows him around, all while unlocking past memories that had long been forgotten. Trigger Warning: Alcohol and drugs, implied explicit content. This is a slightly longer chapter as well, but had plenty of dialogue and is a somewhat happy break from the last chapter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do not share this with any of the content creators mentioned/anyone famous (?) in reality. This is just a story not meant to cause harm towards anyone, and involves online personas not the real creators themselves. If they have any issues I will not hesitate taking this down.

Dream was once again in his apartment building and wasn't surprised when he saw Fundy in the same place as he was the previous day. To his surprise and delight, the young ginger was practically a few pages away from finishing the book he was reading. Dream walked past him at first, but then stopped and turned to face him. "Wow, don't tell me you're finished already."

Fundy's head looked up, his soft amber eyes wide with interest and at the same time, boredom. "Almost," he said while cracking a smile. "it's so good!" He then looked back down at the book, taking his small hands and running it along the old, yellow stained page. "Sometime's the dialogue's weird, though. Like when they're killing each other and still all nice about it."

"Well it was the nineteenth century. People still had manners." Dream joked, which resulted in Fundy giving a small giggle. He assumed they were done talking, turning around and reaching to unlock his door when movement caught his eye. He glanced over his shoulder to see Fundy had pushed himself to his feet, shifting slightly before looking up at Dream.

"I was hoping we could go get another one." Fundy's voice was soft, like he was hesitant to ask this question.

Dream paused, giving himself a moment to think. He was tired. Today had been a long day, and at the moment the last thing he wanted to do was go back to Mooney's and pick out another book. He sighed, turning to face Fundy fully. "I mean it's pretty late, Fundy. I don't know."

Fundy gave him a slight nod, head falling and gaze landing at his feet. Dream felt a pang of guilt for some reason. He always had a soft spot for the younger, how could he not? His life was a mess, his family was crumpling before his very eyes and he was outside of their damned apartment more than he was in. It was pathetic, really. Yet he also felt bad for Wilbur. What he was going through wasn't easy. It couldn't be, that and having a child to take care of clearly was weighing down on him. Just seeing Fundy standing there with his shoulders hunched and head down was enough to make Dream have a few second thoughts.

There was a loud thump coming from next door, but this time it was different. It wasn't filled with rage or anger, more like compassion and interest as they struggled to push back the events of today. It's no wonder Fundy wasn't inside, his father's mood had clearly changed within the past twenty four hours. _Something's in the air tonight, George._ Dream thought solemnly, bringing a hand up to the back of his neck and rubbing. _'Cause everyone but me is getting action. Even the lovebirds made up._

After another sigh and a forced smile, he nodded. "Yeah. Yeah, why not? Sure."

Fundy's eyes lit up and for the first time in a long time Dream could see he was actually excited. He mumbled something about grabbing his coat, disappearing down the end of the stairs and calling out for Dream to follow. Dream cast a longing glance at the neighbors, groaning inwardly before shifting his backpack to lean more on one shoulder. His hand fell from the doorknob as he ditched his original plan which would have been to think about the things that had led up to this moment, but maybe Fundy was exactly what he needed. A distraction, something to get his mind off of George. As impossible as that sounded Dream figured he might as well give it a shot and help Fundy while he's at it.

So after a few more seconds of pondering, he allowed his legs to take him back down the stairs for who knows how many times that night. Fundy was waiting patiently outside, practically shivering in his black jacket with colorful stripes on the chest. He was hopping from foot to foot, and when he saw Dream emerge from the doorway he cheered and clapped his hands together. He was a cute kid, it's a shame his father was in so deep with the wrong crowd. Dream had spent multiple evenings with Wilbur and he was a very genuine guy. He wanted to make it big in the music industry but never had the courage to actually start. Dream felt bad for him because he'd constantly hear Wilbur strumming the guitar for Fundy to help him sleep many nights.

As hard as it was to believe, Wilbur was a good father. He had his ups and downs, more downs than probably ups but what's good is that he still cared for Fundy. The few moments they had together were cherishable. You could tell by the way his voice lit up when he spoke with Fundy. How he instantly relaxed and put Fundy's needs above his own. At least the majority of the time - nowadays Wilbur's main focus was on Sally as the two fought it out for hours before ending it with a different kind of fight in the bedroom. Fundy was a trooper for putting up with it, and Dream knew it wasn't easy. He was just a kid after all.

After a quick walk to Mooney's, Dream led Fundy to the front and unlocked the door. The ginger had only gotten more excited, practically jumping up and down when he pulled the glass door open. Dream was met with that familiar smell of paper and old leather, a scent he found rather welcoming nowadays. "Did you know Dumas was a black dude? I googled him." Fundy stated rather proudly. Dream didn't respond to this. Instead focused on turning the lights on so Fundy used this as his chance to continue. "His grandmother was a slave, and his dad was a general. He killed like, half a battalion." Dream turned and flashed him a goofy grin. He giggled. "You probably knew that since you work at a bookstore."

Dream shook his head, setting down the keys on the front desk and leaning against it. "I didn't."

Fundy continued with his bombarding of questions. "How'd you get to work here, anyway?"

"My old mentor gave me a job." Dream started, biting back the urge to shudder at the memories that he had tried to bury in his past. "He gave it to me when I was just a little older than you, he sort of took me in."

"He seems nice!" Fundy said cheerfully, holding his hands together tightly. Dream couldn't help but audibly laugh at this, raising a brow at the small boy.

"He's a dick." Dream scoffed. He probably shouldn't have said that, because Fundy's expression fell slightly and he looked rather confused. In an effort to make up what he said, he tried to think of some positives that had come out of his experiences with his mentor. "But he loved books, and he taught me to love them, too." Dream reached over and started shuffling around in the main desk, sticking his tongue out slightly as if that would help him focus.

Fundy looked around, scanning the store with enthusiasm. "I never see him around here." He stated with a pause, soft eyes widening as he thought of scenarios. "He doesn't happen to be dead, does he?"

Another laugh from Dream, this one much louder. Technoblade would survive if you dropped a nuclear bomb on him. Hell, it'd probably explode the entire area around him and the only thing he'd complain about would be a headache or maybe air pollution. Nothing could phase the guy, and trust me, Dream had tried. "No, he's just old." After a few more seconds of shifting around in the desk, he rolled his eyes and stood up straighter. "Sorry Fundy. I had one back here but Fruit must have sold it."

"Sold what?"

"Your next read." Another pause, he thought for a few seconds before cracking his knuckles. He gestured towards the back of the store, a smile making its way onto his face. "Come on, I'll show you where we keep the good stuff."

Fundy beamed at this. Dream turned and made his way to the back, maneuvering between the aisles upon aisles of books. He felt at home here. There was something about this place that made Dream feel safe. He didn't know if it was the fact that he spent the majority of his time here or he was practically raised here... all he knew is he loved it. He could walk around this place blindfolded he knew it so well. Where each of the books were, which aisle was which and where the best places to relax/study were. Dream actually prided himself on this, but it was something he kept to himself because a lot of people would find it useless information. 

After a few minutes of walking, Dream stopped at the very back. He glanced over his shoulder at Fundy who had stuck to his side like glue. Fundy wasn't really paying attention to their surroundings, his eyes stayed locked on the door that Dream was standing in front of. Giving the boy a wink, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a thick key. It was one of those old fashioned ones that looked more like they opened a dungeon rather than a basement.

Dream stuck the key into the slot and turned. He then gave the door a hefty pull, hearing the seal break and a blast of cold air washed over them from what lay beyond.

Once he fully pulled the door open, he moved forward and began to descend down the cold metal stairs. Fundy followed in suit, Dream could tell by the sounds of his boots as they stomped down the stairs. When Dream stopped at the bottom, his hand trailed along the grimy wall before his fingers closed around the light switch. With a flick, he pushed up and the once pitch black room was flooded with fluorescent lights. Fundy gave a gentle hiss to this, raising his sleeve to his eyes and blocking it out to wait for them to get used to the sudden brightness.

Dream gave Fundy a few moments to adjust. After Fundy had dropped his sleeve, he squinted. Fundy's eyes then widened in sheer awe at what he saw in front of him, walking down the last few steps in a stunned silence. "Freaky..." he mumbled, more to himself than to Dream as he made his way forward. His head swung back and forth, taking in the unbelievable sights.

It was a simple cement room, one with tables spread neatly around accompanied with lamps and comfortable chairs. It would be a normal room, that is if there wasn't a massive glass box in the middle of the basement. It was big, with four thick walls bolted together at the corners. Inside this glass trap were bookshelves with stacks upon stacks of what had to be the oldest books Fundy has ever seen. There was an ancient rug lying on the ground and a box of messy papers and unorganized files was slapped in the corner. All of this was secured behind a thick glass door that was deadbolted shut with locks that looked to be made for the worst of the worst criminals.

Fundy walked forward slowly. He was cautious, almost as if he got too close it would drag him in and never let him go. He glanced from Dream to the box, hands fidgeting. The door had to be at least twice his height, and the thickness of the walls itself probably doubled his weight. It was high security and top notch. Fundy was speechless and no doubt a little frightened, a lot of people would be if they saw this. Dream knew he'd been terrified when Techno had showed it to him as a child, but he didn't want Fundy to be too scared. Dream stepped up beside Fundy, giving a nod towards the glass contraption. "It's the Cage." Fundy looked up at him with wide eyes. "It's where we keep early additions and collectibles."

Fundy looked back at the cage, then shivered. "It's cold." His voice was meek and tiny. The room just seemed to swallow him up.

"Sixty five degrees. For the books." Dream said gently, finishing his sentence with a warm smile.

The boy gave a nervous chuckle, shifting on his feet. "If the zombies come, this is where I'm hiding." His attempt at a joke to break his fear didn't really work, but Dream gave him props for the effort. If there weren't any books here this would be quite a contradicting looking place. Not for the faintest of minds.

After giving him a few more seconds to take it all in, he nodded towards it again and stepped forward. "Come on, it's a lot more interesting inside." His hands worked quickly as he undid the deadbolts, sliding them open with ease. Dream then reached into his pocket and pulled out yet another key. This one was a lot more smaller and was different from the one that was used for the basement door. This place had a lot of security, and Dream wouldn't lie he was quite proud of it.

Dream popped open the door to the cage. Fundy stood there at first, unsure if he should go in. Dream gave him an assuring nod, and after a few more seconds of wondering he brought his shoulders up and took a deep breath. He walked forward, stepping into the glass box warily. Another wave of cold air brushed him and he shivered. As soon as the ginger stepped inside his fears disappeared. Fundy craned his neck in awe and amazement, spinning multiple three sixty's to get a better look on the room. Dream went to follow, but he was stopped by a sudden memory. One that he wasn't sure he still had in him, but here it went pushing itself into his mind as he froze.

_"Careful, Dream." A voice snapped, and suddenly Dream was young again. He whirled around to see Techno standing there, an annoyed expression on his face. Dream looked up at him with wide eyes, watching as Techno stepped into the room. It was real, almost too real. Techno's hair falling over his shoulder in a messy braid... he was wearing his signature brown boots with simple pants and a white long sleeved shirt, eyes filled with ferocity and harshness. He towered over Dream, walking forward and holding his hand out while gesturing to the books. "When it comes to the value of a book, it's all about condition. I'll show you."_

"It's always sixty five degrees," Dream said aloud as he stared off into the distance. Fundy watched him with curiosity, but didn't interrupt. There was something in Dream's eyes that told him to stay quiet. "Humidity forty percent. Too moist, the pages can mildew." Dream reached over to one of the shelves, grabbing the closest one to him. It was old with a faded out leather cover as most of the books were. He stared at it for a few seconds, hearing Techno's words echo in his mind as if he was still here.

_"Too dry, they'll get brittle. Always keep books upright so the spines don't become rolled or warped, or what we call cocked." Technoblade said sternly, slamming the book shut in his hands hard enough to make Dream jump. His mentor had always been stern, even with the books and Dream tried to pretend it was for the best interest. He often told himself that it was just Techno's personality, but fuck he didn't have to be such a prick about it._

Current Dream stared at the book in his hands for a few seconds a little too intensely. Fundy blinked up at him, and he ordered himself to snap out of it. "We never wanna fold or crease the pages." To make a show of this, he opened the book and pressed against one of the almost golden pages. Fundy nodded in understanding as Dream continued. "We dust the covers with a chemical free duster-"

_"Always towards the spine!" Techno roared, ripping the book from Dream's hands. Dream stumbled back in surprise, not expecting the anger in his voice. "Under no circumstances is there any sunlight in this room." His voice dripped with an uncomfortable edge, keeping it raised to make sure the point got across. Dream nodded, mouth dry as the words got caught in his throat. These memories... they were so real, and for a second Dream was scared he was back there. With him._

Dream shook his head, trying to shake the flashbacks. His main focus was on Fundy who was watching him intensely. "Sunlight can ruin a book as fast as fire, if not faster." He closed the book that was in his hands. Fundy stared at him. He then looked around and sighed softly.

"That's a lot of stuff to remember just to take care of some old books." Fundy mumbled, bringing his arms to his chest and crossing them. Dream chuckled at this, kickstarting his feet and walking up to the small boy.

"The most valuable things in life are usually the most helpless. So they need people like us to protect them, you know?" His voice was low, practically a growl at this point. Fundy gave him a quick nod, and Dream bent over slightly. His piercing green eyes never left Fundy's as he reached over to the right and grabbed one of the books from the shelves, pulling out one with a dusty brown leather cover. Fundy looked from the book back to Dream, not daring to move as if he'd throw off his groove or something.

Dream held the book up, allowing Fundy to read the title. "Don Quicks-oat?" Fundy read, and Dream giggled at how he pronounced the last name.

"Quixote. It's about a guy who believes in chivalry so he decides to be and old-school night." He said proudly, but Fundy only got more confused.

"What's chivalry?" Fundy asked as he took the book from Dream's hands and looked down at it.

Dream chuckled. "It's treating people with respect. Especially women, which men should." He informed, and Fundy only responded with a curt nod. "It's good. It's one of my favorites." Dream added on, as if that would do anything to sway the younger's mind.

Fundy had a huge smile on his face as he pressed against the cover, running his fingers all around the book and getting a good feel for it. The smile quickly fell however, and he looked up at Dream with hesitance in his eyes. "I probably shouldn't take this home." His voice had gotten that monotone tune, as if he was trying to hide his emotions. Dream simply rolled his eyes, playfully punching Fundy's shoulder.

"It's not a first addition, just an old one. Besides I trust you." He put a hand into Fundy's ginger locks and messed with it, completely messing up his hair. Fundy giggled at his, swatting his hand away but his eyes and face were bright. With another playful shove to the shoulder, Dream turned and walked out of the cage knowing it was time to get the younger home. He highly doubted Wilbur would be awake and he doubted even more if Wilbur had even noticed Fundy's disappearance. Still, no matter how much he didn't want to take Fundy home to that hellhole, he knew he had to.

The walk back to their apartment complex was a lot more chill this time around. Dream had stopped and gotten them both milkshakes even though Fundy had clearly stated there was no need. Fundy deserved it, and hopefully it'd add some joy to the life he was going back to. They made light conversation, chatting about simple things and asking about their days. Dream couldn't exactly tell him that he'd spent the day with George (without him knowing) so he spun a quick tale about organizing books all day. Fundy didn't question him whatsoever, and he was quite thankful for this.

Dream walked up the stairs with Fundy following close behind. He was about to tell Fundy to have a good night when as soon as he got to the top he was met with Sally standing in front of his door, arms crossed. She reeked of alcohol and and cigarettes. Her hair was tied back in a greasy ponytail, and when she saw Dream appear with Fundy behind him her lip raised in a snarl. Her eyes flashed from Dream to Fundy, where she stepped forward and glared daggers at Fundy. 

"Where have you been, Fundy?" She asked, drawing out her words. They were pungent, the alcohol that she had consumed earlier was no doubt slurring them.

Fundy pushed past Dream, shrinking down and trying to make himself as small as possible. He often did this when he went into defensive mode. "We just grabbed some milkshakes."

She narrowed her eyes. "You just walk off with strangers?" She quizzed, stepping forward more and letting her arms drop to the side. Dream fought the urges to just let his mouth do the talking and rip her into a new one, Dream knew for a fact that he knew more about Fundy than she ever would.

"Dream's not a stranger-" Fundy tried, but Sally shook her head, scoffing rather obnoxiously. 

"Yes, he is." She snapped. Her hand shot up and she pointed to the door, she was still wasted enough to be shaking. Her hand was barely staying still, and Dream noted with distaste at the poorly done manicure. "Inside, now." She ordered harshly. Fundy hesitated. This clearly pissed her off, but she forced herself to take a deep breath then flashed him a tobacco stained smile. "Please?"

Fundy looked from Sally to Dream, ducking his head low with embarrassment. Dream gave him a nod, saying it was fine for him to go. That was enough for the small boy because he walked forward and past Sally. She put a hand on his shoulder and squeezed. Dream didn't miss how Fundy flinched at the grip. Fundy opened the door to the apartment, hustling inside at a rather fast pace. Sally made sure he was all the way in before slamming the door behind him and whirling back around to face Dream.

She stalked forward. Her movements were slow and mechanical as she stood directly in front of Dream. He recoiled slightly at her, the smell of alcohol and cigarettes still putting him off. Sally's eyes gleamed as she met his own. "Keep away from my boyfriend's kid."

Dream somehow managed to muster up the energy and keep himself from rolling his eyes, he didn't want to piss her off even more. "Look, I'm sorry, but he was out here and he could hear everything in there." Dream said politely, cringing to himself at the forced niceness. It was taking all of his willpower to not kick this lady out of their apartment this very moment. He knew he could, but at the same time he knew he shouldn't. Not with Wilbur and Fundy on the line.

"Don't you tell me how to parent." She growled, hostility evident in every word she said. "This whole nice guy act might work on other people. I'm a parole officer, ten years, and I can see what you are." She stated this with such a matter-of-fact tone it sounded like she was actually proud of this feat.

Dream snorted. _Well, you're also an alcoholic shitbag who beats on those less fortunate than you. So please, enlighten me._ He thought with amusement. As if she read his mind, she stepped forward another time, close enough so the only thing Dream could smell was her nasty breath. "You're a freak," she started, brows furrowing as she said this. "so stay away from Fundy. Because if you don't, I'll grab a steak knife and I'll cut those freak eyes out."

To make a show of this, she brought her fingers up and twisted them, mimicking the action of stabbing someone's eyes. Dream felt the rage come flooding back, but he also found himself thinking of George. Dream was done with Sally's shit. He stood up straighter, broadening his stance and looking down at her with cold and dead eyes. He didn't say anything, but he towered over her almost by a foot. She noticed this, blinking awkwardly and letting her hand fall. Sally went to say something, but when Dream narrowed his eyes and gave her a fierce glare she kept silent. With an awkward shuffle, she stumbled backwards and disappeared into her apartment, slamming the door shut behind her.

 _There are scary people in the world, George. That's why it's important to be safe._ Dream sighed, allowing his body to relax. He looked around the apartment one last time, then started towards his own place.

_And why I have to do what I'm about to do._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed. This was sort of a comfort chapter to get to know the soft side of Dream. I'd like to thank everyone for the support :) Also the regulars who come back with each update, I'm glad my fic can keep your attention. I've so far been able to keep my update schedule consistent, posting every three days, but with school it might falter a bit. I've got pretty much the entirety of chapter one written and just a fair warning this is going to be one hell of a ride. The chapters do get longer as well because frankly I don't want to split it up into twenty parts. So yeah :D Thanks for reading, and I really enjoy looking at your comments (they make my day)


	6. Pilot (Chapter 1 Part 6)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dream does some more in-person investigating of George. He finds some very interesting things on the "adorable" Brit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do not share this with any of the content creators mentioned/anyone famous (?) in reality. This is just a story not meant to cause harm towards anyone, and involves online personas not the real creators themselves. If they have any issues I will not hesitate taking this down.

Dream was now standing outside of George's apartment. He was wearing his signature hoodie, and he looked like any other person that was out that day. He stared up at it for a moment. Once again he found himself ogling how nice it was. The massive arched windows gave George the perfect view of his neighborhood, but they also gave Dream the perfect view of him. It was silly and George was completely oblivious. Dream had planned to keep it this way. He wouldn't want Georgie finding out about him this soon, would he?

It had taken a while for Dream to come up with his next plan. There were multiple things he could have done - but after a long time of planning and thinking, he decided his best bet was to learn more about George. There was only so much he could learn from his online personality and let's face it, nobody is the exact same as their online life. The entire reason people are online is to show the life that they wish they were living. George was a prime example of this. Online he was this happy go lucky, partying-get-drunk-with-your-friends type. Away from the screen, though, he was nothing but a student swamped with debt and in a relationship that Dream was 90% sure was one sided. He put up an act. As does everyone these days. Dream wanted to be real with George. He wanted to be real for George. In order for him to do that though, he needed to learn more and investigate farther.

 _Fun fact,_ Dream thought, beginning his descent up the stairs. The hall of George's apartment smelled somewhat nice. Sort of like expired Christmas. He veered a sharp right, then flipped a U-Turn and stopped at the main door that went into George's apartment. It was cracked open, just a small sliver. A sinister smirk made it's way onto his face. Slowly he reached forward and pushed his way inside. His face lit up as he saw where George had been living for a while. Where his George, had been living. _Did you know the law requires gas leaks to be investigated? I've been learning a lot since I've met you._

"Hey George!" Dream called out when he stepped inside. He was met with the smell of cleaning supplies that burned the back of his nose. "You left the door open again. I thought we said we weren't going to do that anymore." His voice was calm, but underneath he was buzzing with excitement. In fact Dream could barely contain how happy he was to just be within the proximity of where George was staying. His apartment was cute, warm and inviting. Dream could just picture when he finally had his hands on George and this was place he would get to call home. Not to sound choppy or anything, but this was something he had been looking forward to since as long as he could remember. He finally wasn't just sitting outside his window and looking in, he was inside and had all the time in the world to look around.

 _I was careful to call the gas company on a day when you had a full schedule. I wouldn't wanna scare you._ The one main hallway led straight down and branched off into a multitude of other rooms. One was the kitchen, next to it was the entrance to the living room. It wasn't very well kept. The sink was filled with dirty dishes. Random objects were tossed in corners, along with the casual sweater thrown randomly here and there. Dream took everything in. The windows provided an excellent source of natural light that Dream found soothing. With that in mind the apartment was rather hot, which was a slight surprise because George seemed like the type of guy to whine if the temperature wasn't perfect. When Dream lived here, he promised that everything would be to George's liking.

Dream continued looking throughout the house for a few minutes when he rounded the corner to see the technician there. He ducked his head in apology. "Hey. Is George here?" He asked, cocking his head at the question. The technician was squatted on the floor, digging through a crate filled with tools. When Dream spoke he paused and looked up. He seemed to be a nice guy who was just there doing his job. He also didn't seem too surprised to see Dream.

"Nope. Superintendent let me in. Someone reported a leak." He put his tools back into his box. 

Dream nodded. "Right. Yeah. He mentioned that. Is everything okay?" There was an edge to his voice that was truly sincere.

"Yeah, all clear. Tell your boyfriend there's no leak." He stood up, grabbing the crate by the handle and beginning to make his way out. As he passed Dream, he gave him a curt nod of respect. "I'm done, so..." he trailed off, then paused at the doorway. This man was respectful. Asking for permission to leave, how endearing. 

Dream shifted on his feet awkwardly. "Okay, thanks. Well, I can just lock up." Dream assured. The man stood there for a few seconds, glancing at Dream. He was probably questioning the trustworthiness of Dream, as he should. After all he did come in here in the middle of a session. To avoid his suspicions he flashed the man a warm smile, then lifted his hoodie above his head and tossed it onto the floor. It fit right in with George's other clothes, Dream noted with a happy smile. This satisfied the technician to some extent, because after that he nodded once more before turning and leaving the apartment. He shut the door behind him and a wave of relief washed over Dream. 

When he was finally free of lurking eyes, Dream turned back to George's living room. This was his chance, his moment to learn about George. He was free to pick apart his life and study it. Dream could do anything he wanted, he was at the liberty of no one. It was everything he could have wanted. His eyes scanned the apartment, taking in more of his surroundings. He didn't know where to start. At the same time he knew he'd have to act fast... George wasn't supposed to get home anytime soon but there was no saying if his schedule would change or not. The last thing he wanted was the Brit walking in on him while he searched through his belongings or something.

 _I just need to know who you really are, besides a broke poetry student inside a subsidized apartment you could never afford._ Dream decided to start in the living room. He figured this was a good place considering it's where George stayed the most. Dream did an awkward shuffle around, then smirked. He walked over to the couch and stopped directly in front of it, looking down. His eyes were filled with amusement. Dream leaned forward and ran the tips of his fingers along the end of the couch, chest going warm. This was it. This was where George had been fucked by Punz. Where he didn't finish, and had to finish himself. The memories of that night stabbed at Dream's heart while simultaneously made his head rush. He wanted to be the one to make George feel good, and unlike Punz he'd be able to take care of him after.

Dream really hated Punz. He wasn't sure if he'd ever hated someone as much as he did that man, but it was fine. One day or another Punz would be gone for good. Yet another promise he was making to George, and he was determined to fulfill every one of them no matter how hard it was. He was willing to go to extreme measures to please him.

Dream reached forward and grabbed the pillow George had used the previous night. He swore it was still hot from the friction. He remembered George's frantic actions as he raced to get to his release. He held it in his hands softly, just letting his mind wander. Suddenly his heart hurt. He felt the unwavering urge to just talk to George. Dream didn't know why - he was usually patient and relaxed but... George was doing something to him. Dream had only felt like this once and he promised himself he'd never do it again it's just... George was different. Dream had never felt so happy with another person. That was saying something considering he'd only known him for a few days and they'd only talked once. George made Dream feel like he was alive, like he was on a high and he'd never come down. That's how addicting he was.

And for all Dream knew, George did't even remember him. What if George had forgotten about Dream? What if he only cared about Punz? George was gullible. He was easily tricked and as much as he denied it, George was desperate. Desperate for human touch, desperate for that connection that only a couple could have. There was a difference between talking to friends about your problems over a few drinks and sitting with another on a cold night cuddling on the couch. He hadn't realized it but he was now holding the pillow tight enough to turn his knuckles white. After letting out a faint hiss, he threw the pillow back down onto the couch and stepped back. 

Dream couldn't get off track now. Not while he was this close. He continued walking backwards until his back smacked into something. He turned, studying what was in front of him before reaching forward. There was a square table that was leaning against the wall and on top of it was a chest. Small and simple, but it was big enough for what Dream was looking for to be hidden inside. Dream pulled the box up to his chest and popped it open. Biting his lip, he sifted through the many contents. The more he looked the less he found. Just some chapstick here, a load of books there - not what he was looking for. _Where is it George?_ Dream let out a loud groan of annoyance as he slammed the chest shut before pushing it back to where it had previously been. Dream then spun around once more. From this angle his apartment was in even worse condition. Books and lamps, clothing and random objects scattered about like he didn't give a care in the world.

It wasn't very flattering, Dream wasn't afraid to admit that. 

_When we live together, your place won't be a pigsty. I'll clean for us._ Dream hurried across the room directly, another table catching his eye. This one was just one of those wooden pop up ones that people had in order to eat inside the living room. On top of it were bowls filled with old food, salt shakers and glasses, the newspaper and even two 10 pound weights. How cute, George was trying to gain a little muscle. Dream picked up one of the bowls of food and raised his lip in disgust. _You won't eat all this frozen shit. I'll cook for you. I promise._ He dropped the bowl, wiping his hands on his jeans. Dream stood up straighter, putting his hands on his hips and looking around once more. He couldn't find what he was looking for and damn it was starting to get on his nerves.

Dream paused for a few seconds, giving his mind enough time to think. A sudden realization hit him and it's like a lightbulb had turned on. From the very first time he had ever looked in on George, he was standing and talking to himself while leaning over a vanity. Quickly Dream rushed into the main area of the living room and took a sharp turn. After a few seconds of searching, he found it. Dream practically skipped over, halting as soon as he saw his reflection.

Dream wasn't a bad looking guy, if he was allowed to have some self esteem without sounding like a dick. He was tall, in all his 6'3 glory. His dirty blonde hair was always shiny and very well taken care of (he prided himself on this) while his green eyes matched with the tone of his skin perfectly. He had a face full of freckles on his face that were darker in the center and faded out onto his cheeks. His arms were accompanied by these freckles as well, as were his shoulders. When it came to his body structure he was pretty well built. Dream didn't work out, he never had the energy to but he was far from fat. If anything he should probably eat more considering if he breathed in too much you could see his ribs. Now he wasn't unhealthily skinny by no means but it wouldn't kill him to eat a burger every now and then.

He brought his hand up to his cheek and touched it. It's not like Dream wanted to invade his privacy so much it's just hard. How else would he know that George rarely cooked for himself? How else would he know that George preferred sleeping with the lights on more often than not, and how else was he supposed to know that when George did his laundry he often sat on the washer or dryer and stared off into space for a few hours? All these little details... these little tendencies, Dream would know nothing about them if he didn't stop by time to time. It was fine though, he wasn't bothering George or hurting him in anyway so essentially he wasn't doing anything wrong.

Dream forced himself to stop staring and his eyes fell to the table portion of the vanity. This was where George got ready most of the days. There was a bottle of hair gel buried underneath a mess of papers. In the mornings he'd usually take a small scoop and then lather it into his fluffy brown hair in a weak attempt to style it. Next to that was a package of baby wipes which George would use to clean his face because he was far too lazy to actually wash properly. Dream reached down and his fingers brushed against the comb that George used every single day. It was simple, just like him, but it was such a vital part to his routine Dream couldn't help but giggle. The amount of times George had used this stupid little comb was ridiculous. It's like he couldn't live without it.

Anyways, back to what he was looking for. George was just so easy to think about and was quite a comfort for Dream. He wasn't getting anywhere by just staring at himself in the mirror and remembering George's random tactics. A few Polaroid pictures caught his attention. He grabbed them, spreading them out in his hands like a deck of playing cards. Much to his despair the first one was him with Sapnap. They were sitting together in a hot tub, hands interlocked and chests flushed together. Sapnap was toned, of course he would be. His abs were probably surgically added. Dream knew he could afford it and at this point wouldn't put it past him. George looked happy, brown eyes filled with amazement. Sapnap looked smug, of course the fucker would.

The other two pictures weren't as complex. One was of George sitting with a dog, that dog was sitting in his lap. It's tongue was ferociously licking his face and he was leaning back into the grass. The final picture was of his hand holding a book. It was clutched tightly in his fingers, it must have been an old book because there wasn't a cover to it. His signature bracelets were secured on his wrists and he was holding the book up to a sunset backdrop. It took Dream a second to notice but his nails were actually painted a dark black. Cute. Dream felt a nagging feeling deep down inside of him that Sapnap probably had something to do with that, considering George wasn't bold enough to do it himself.

Dream set the pictures back in their respective spot and was about to ditch the vanity and search somewhere else when he noticed something hidden underneath a paper. He pushed it aside, heart picking up pace at this new finding. Sitting there, once obscured, was a pair of George's boxers. Dream's hand hovered over them for a few seconds, wondering if he should actually do it. 

Of course he was going to, it's not like George was going to notice one small thing was missing.

Dream snatched up the boxers swiftly, stepping back from the vanity and holding them up. They were a simple navy blue, nothing too special but to Dream it meant the world. He stretched the fabric in his hands, being careful not to split the seem. This was't exactly what he was looking for but it'd be a great addition to add to his collection. He shuddered in excitement as he remembered the fond (and not so fond) memories that lay within their secretive hiding place. With a shameless smirk, Dream folded his boxers into a tight little square and stuffed them into his back pocket. Dream's heart throbbed at this and he spun around happily.

 _I'll even do your laundry._ With newfound happiness he skipped back into the hallway. What he just did may be considered creepy to some people, but to Dream it was just showing his love and compassion, He wasn't grossed out by things like this. In fact, they intrigued him. While walking around he stopped and paused at a shelf where George had a bunch of study books. They were no doubt for his school, and Dream would bet a hundred dollars that if he opened it up it'd be filled with marks from highlighters and pens. Behind those there was a shelf filled with random poets. These included Mark Strand, James Merrill, classic Edgar Allen Poe and a lot more. _I'd be more than willing to take care of your favorite books._

He passed the shelf and continued. Dream had been searching George's apartment for about half an hour now. No matter where he looked, he just couldn't find what he was looking for. The apartment was big, sure, but it wasn't that big. Maybe George had taken it with him when he went out? No... that was unlikely. There was still one place Dream hadn't looked so he knew it had to be there. Slowly he walked past the living room and down the main hallway. His pace slowed until he was stopped outside of George's bedroom.

This was probably the simplest room in the apartment. The first thing he noticed was a massive British flag nailed to the wall on the far side of the room. George missed home, no doubt. It couldn't have been easy moving across the room to fulfill your dreams alone. Yet again, George wouldn't be alone for long. Dream was just waiting for the perfect moment to make his move. His eyes looked past the flag and scanned the room. He noticed a bed was pressed flush against the wall in the middle, unmade of course. George's sheets were white and he had a matching blanket to go with it. On either side of the bed were two nightstands, both had a lamp on it. They were surprisingly clean which led Dream to the assumption that he at least wanted where he slept to be somewhat presentable. There were some books stranded on his nightstand as well. Dream figured he sometimes would read to fall asleep when he wasn't too busy.

Near the door there was a rack bolted to the wall that held up numerous jackets and hoodies, along with a closet in the far corner where Dream had seen George go numerous times. George's clothes were... not very versatile, if that made sense. He usually just wore skinny jeans (which fit him perfectly may he add) and a loose blue shirt. He also wore the same damn Nike's every single day. Dream would definitely have him spice it up when they got together. Another thing Dream noticed was that he mostly wore things in different shades of blue. At least, it was either blue or gray. He couldn't help but wonder why this was. Maybe those were just his favorite colors? It was fitting but at the same time Dream had a feeling there was more to it than he knew.

After getting lost in his thoughts for a second, he turned his attention turned back to George's bed. Dream walked forward and pressed his hands into the mattress, closing his eyes for a brief second. It was soft. Light, too, which means George was probably a light sleeper and needed to be incredibly comfortable in order to sleep. He slid forward more, letting his hands just take everything in. They slipped underneath the covers. Dream groaned inwardly - it was still warm from when George had slept earlier. He could just picture it now, holding George close after a long day and whispering sweet nothings into his ear while stroking his fluffy hair. It was thoughts like this that kept him sane. George kept him sane and he yearned to just hold the smaller in his arms.

Once he had George, he'd never let him go. That's a promise.

 _I'll make our bed every morning,_ he hummed, bringing a knee up and crawling into his bed. He sunk on the mattress and giggled, George liked it soft. Or... did he? There was still so much Dream didn't know about him and it was aggravating to say the least. Dream allowed his body to fall back, bouncing on the bed as he splayed his arms and legs out in a star formation. He closed his eyes and breathed in, giving himself a moment to take in the feeling of George's room. It was welcoming. It was a place Dream found comfort in, and if he really focused he could smell the faint fragrance of vanilla. Soft, gentle smells and again Dream couldn't help but wonder what George was mostly like.

George was good at putting up acts. Even if Dream didn't want to acknowledge this, he had to. It was fine though. It only pushed him farther to uncover his life. Dream let out a long sigh, trailing his hands down each side of the bed. His hands clenched at the blanket and sheets. He'd kill for George to be with him right now, and no, that's not an exaggeration. He'd do anything for George, anything to please him. If George wasn't happy, Dream wasn't happy. In some worlds that would be considered toxic but in Dream's, it was loving. If anything George should be happy that he was putting so much effort into him and towards him. He doubted that George had ever been given attention for a solid thirty seconds. Well, attention that wasn't form his professor or an old man looking to test out his twink fetish.

With all that in mind, it was considerably hard to ensure George's happiness when Dream couldn't really interact him with yet. He was getting there though, and that's the only thing that mattered at this point. He pushed himself to sit up and looked around the room once more. He didn't want to get up too soon. George's bed was just so welcoming, he wanted to cuddle up and fall asleep. Wait for George to come home, and then he could join him. Oh what a beautiful dream that is. Another sigh. He was starting to get annoyed of imagining. Dream leaned forward, going to mess with the blanket when his hand brushed against something cold and hard.

Dream cocked his head. He reached underneath the covers. His fingers wrapped around a sleek object before he pulled it from it's hiding place. _Oh, there it is!_ With a gasp of excitement he gave a happy cheer when he saw he was holding George's laptop in his hands. This is what he was looking for! Dream pulled it closer to him. It was simple, a white computer decked out in stickers. Just of random bands and YouTube channels that Dream had no clue about. With a smile he placed his fingers between it and pushed it open.

_And no matter how hard you fight me, I will always make sure you password protect your devices._

Of course there was no password. It's George, what did you expect? His background was simple, just a bunch of flowers and he probably never had the energy to change it. The layout was just a bunch of random files and apps - nothing special. What Dream did see was as soon as he turned it on he was met with George's gallery. Humble as he may be, he took a surprising amount of selfies. Dream wasn't complaining, though. George was just so cute. One picture after another of him smiling and trying to pose, eyes bright and smile flashing. Dream has said it once and he'll say it again, George was perfect. Fuck he was cute. The way he positioned himself enough to keep his face in while also messing with his hands.

George seemed to be fine around the camera, but Dream on the other hand preferred to stay anonymous. He liked to think his face wasn't a very memorable one. That was good though. For the longest time Dream actually wore a mask whenever he went out. It was after his last relationship, after things had gone a little south... it was conspicuous as hell but he just felt comfortable with the mask. Eventually he outgrew it and now was pretty comfortable with his face but everyone has their moments. George, on the other hand, he knows he's pretty. He may be all humble about it at first but by looking in his gallery right now it was evident he had some confidence in himself. Either that or he just really enjoyed posing. 

Dream's face flushed when he clicked the arrow and it shifted to a different picture. It was a mirror selfie, of course it was - that's exactly the type of thing George would do. Holy fuck, though, what he was doing wasn't anything he would do. George was in his bathroom, leaning against the back wall. His blue shirt was lifted up and revealing his chest, the bottom of it being held between his teeth. Now by no means did George have abs, but he was thin enough to give that illusion. His pants were pushed down which showed his perfect hips. With one hand holding up the phone, his other rested between his legs. His face was a deep shade of red.

The camera wasn't angled enough to give Dream a full view of George's lower half sadly. Dream's tongue slipped out and he wet his lips, fully taking in the picture. George's frame was rather thin. At least it seemed like that at first glance. The more Dream looked, the more details he could see. The arm that was holding up his phone had a thickness to it that Dream could only describe as lean muscle. His v-line was perfect, angling downwards and sharpening his waist. His skin was milky white, smooth and flawless without any markings. Quite a contrast to Dream's freckled flesh. It looked good though, they'd look good together if only Dream could have George to his own.

That wasn't the only picture like that George had taken. There were about seven or eight others, but none of them showed the full thing. Dream growled at this. Even online George was teasing him, what did he expect? George was a brat. It's one of the many traits Dream had admired. From the very first day Dream had laid eyes on him he had an attitude. Sassy and charismatic, not afraid to speak his mind. Dream came to realize George certainly had multiple personalities. When he met Dream he put himself out there and joked around, but when he was with his friends he was more laid back and quiet. It all depended on the person he was with. Dream wondered how George would act when it was just them together, and for a much longer time period.

Like a date, perhaps.

Would he be his shy self or his open self? Or maybe a mix of both? Dream was dying to find out. 

Dream was about to investigate more when he stopped at the final picture. It was another slightly explicit one, except this time he was sitting on the counter. One of his legs was hiked up and kicked out, meanwhile he was leaning on his other hand to keep for support. Another banger, and Dream felt like he could stare at it forever. Except this one was different. His eyes weren't meeting the camera, in fact he looked slightly uncomfortable. Dream tilted his head. There was a sentence typed at the bottom of the picture. "Is this what you wanted? I've never done it before..."

He stared at the screen in confusion. Now why would that be there? He'd taken these pictures before, but why was there a caption? Unless this one wasn't meant for George to boost his confidence. George had sent this picture to someone else, but who? Could it be Punz? That's the most realistic answer, but it wasn't sitting right with Dream. George didn't need to show off to anyone else. Dream didn't like that. How had they responded to this? Why did George look so nervous - how long ago was this?

Dream was starting to notice a pattern. It was a reoccurring issue that made him rather aggravated. Whenever somebody got too close to George, he got annoyed. That night Punz was all over him and then just... left him alone, Dream was livid. You could tell how hurt George was after Punz had abandoned him and the only thing Dream wanted to do was give him a hug. Tell him it's alright. And then there was Sapnap. Dream knew he had more intentions then what he led on but at the same time, could he just be a good friend? He had his moments. Dream just wanted to know Sapnap's goal. There's no way he was in it just for George, they're nothing alike - but he couldn't help but wonder what Sapnap wanted from him. Probably just a charity case that Sapnap picked up in order to fuel his ego.

His thoughts were interrupted when a notification popped up onto the screen. Apparently, George's phone was connected to his computer. He quickly fumbled through the contacts and messages. George was a mix between a dry texter and an oversharing one. He put punctuation after basically every text. Dream snorted. He was trying to major in literature so that made sense. He continued scrolling through random chats when he stumbled upon something that made his heart throb.

_Well, well, well, George. How about that?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the day late in posting! My WiFi went down and is still having issues so hopefully this chapter gets posted! The chapters might start getting a little long so I hope you look forward to that. I also hope you enjoyed and feel free to leave a comment about how you feel/what your thoughts are! They really make my day ngl. If you didn't like it, I don't mind but please don't leave a hate comment or anything! I write this purely for the enjoyment of others and not myself. Anyways, thanks for staying and reading this far! I know my writing is mediocre so this means a lot :D


	7. Pilot (Chapter 1 Part 7)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> George has a talk with his professor. Things don't go according to plan for Dream and he finds himself in a uh, wet, situation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do not share this with any of the content creators mentioned/anyone famous (?) in reality. This is just a story not meant to cause harm towards anyone, and involves online personas not the real creators themselves. If they have any issues I will not hesitate taking this down.

"One day, you won't need love anymore. One day you won't walk through the world as though it was your job to hold everything up. The sun, the sky, the hard part of the night." the professor read out, her voice was filled with admiration and amusement. Her manicured hands held onto the stack of papers in front of her which bore the marks of red ink. She scanned the papers once more before lifting her eyes to the small brunette that sat in front of her. "It's good. It's quite good."

George smiled at this. He continued fiddling with the pen in his hands, about to say something but the professor wasn't finished. "But George, where's the rest? You owe me twenty more pages." She set the stack of papers that she did have on her desk and leaned forward. Her posture was rather straight, but she lowered her head to meet George's eyes. George shifted in his seat uncomfortably. Every time she looked at him it felt like she was just seeing through him. In fact, anything she did felt off. George wasn't an idiot. He knew her true intentions, but for the sake of himself he had to go along with it.

He tried to calm his racing heart with a few deep breaths. If he lost his composure now then he'd show signs of weakness - he couldn't do that. She was like a predator, and if he dared break even slightly she'd be ready to pounce and eat him alive. He'd have to be smart. He needed to think about this and be thorough. "I've been, honestly, working every day and grading papers-" George started, messing with the pen again. He tried to look her in the eyes but it was hard. He was being hit with so many emotions at once he swore his head was going to just fall off at this point. "There's just so much work that needs to be completed within such a strict timeline..."

The professor shook her head, stopping George mid-excuse. "If the schedule is too rigorous, drop back to part time." She reasoned. George's eyes widened at this.

"But then I won't qualify to keep my internship. I need the cash, the housing, I'd lose my place!" George's frantic words became a mumbled mess. He was really starting to panic. He couldn't lose this, not with his current situation. Everything he had was all he had. This was all he had. George knew he was falling behind, but fuck it wasn't his fault. He was trying to get caught up it was just so goddamn hard. That's what it's like in college. Once you fall behind it's basically impossible to keep up with the class. That, and his crazy life at the moment wasn't really a good combination.

"You'll figure it out." Her eyes flashed, and she gave him a smile. He knew exactly what lay underneath those pearly white teeth. "You're smart, or you wouldn't be here." Getting that compliment from her wasn't as comforting as it should be. If it were a normal teacher George would probably be in tears of happiness at this but since it was her, it felt more like a personal attack.

George scooted forward, ignoring the harsh scraping noises that followed. "Please, Professor Leahy-" he began, voice high as he prepared to beg.

"Paula." 

"Paula," he corrected himself. When he said that her smile got more sinister and chills shot up George's spine. He shrugged them off, forcing himself to stay focused on the task at hand. "I'll get you the pages by the end of the week. I can't go to part time, okay?" George promised. Paula gave herself a few seconds to think. After a few seconds, she clicked her tongue and sat back slightly.

Two other students walked past the doorway, but both George and Paula stayed silent. George was sending a silent prayer that Paula would give him a chance. The second this finished he planned on going home and pumping out pages. Please, please, let the professor be on his side. He also wanted to get out of this office as fast as possible. George was suffocating. The dangerous and hungry eyes of the professor burned as she studied him up and down. She scared him. He didn't know what was going on inside her mind, he had a frank idea but the more he thought about it the more he was disgusted with himself. George wanted it to stop, wanted it to stop more than anything but deep down he knows that this will come in handy one day. 

Maybe today was that day.

"I'm rooting for you George." She said, breaking the silence with a sigh. She fully leaned back in her chair and pressed the tips of her fingers together as if she were an evil mastermind. "You just need to keep up." George nodded, thinking this was over. He was about to reach forward when Paula's face lit up and she flashed him another smile. "I'd be happy to discuss this further. After class, some evening? If we're gonna seriously discuss poetry, it should be over a drink. There's a little gastropub I love that's nearby."

George knew where this was going. He knew she was trying to get them alone together in a less public area. And a pub, nonetheless. It's the last thing he wanted to do and frankly just the thought of going somewhere with her alone was scaring him. He didn't know how to defend himself. He knew that by giving her a chance, by leading her on he was only digging himself a deeper hole. Yet George didn't know what else to do. He had no choice.

He had to go along with it. "I would love that, Paula." He gave a nervous chuckle, watching as her eyes filled with excitement. "It's just uh, how would your husband feel about you-"

"About me helping out an aspiring writer? He's used to my generosity." George laughed at this, a little too forcefully though. She wasn't finished. "So, Thursday night, then?"

George knew that agreeing to this would be the biggest mistake of his life. Once he said yes, there was no going back. He'd never been so on edge in his entire life. He could put up with the lingering touches here and the tasteful comments about his appearance there, but that was one thing. By doing this he'd willingly be giving himself up to her and all her fantasies. He could afford it, though. Right? With a crooked smile, he nodded. "Thursday night it is."

She clapped her hands together and her eyes glinted with excitement. "Excellent! And don't worry about the next few days, just go home and get caught up." Her tone had completely shifted. How did she go from all serious and normal to so happy? It was strange, really. 

George didn't know how to react. He was at a loss for words, regret blossoming in his chest. After a few awkward seconds, George gave her an apologetic nod for taking up her time before standing up. The chair screeched back behind him, Paula looked at him with interest filled eyes and he mumbled another apology. He grabbed his bookbag and turned on his heels, rushing out of the office. He narrowly avoided colliding with another student as he patted himself down before pulling out his phone.

He didn't realize he was shaking until he stumbled outside and tried to type. He could barely hold still and the backs of his eyes were beginning to sting with the threatening of tears. He didn't know why he wanted to cry, he did this to himself. He deserved this. All the bad things that were happening to him were because of him, and nobody could tell him otherwise. He just wished he was normal. He wanted to have a normal school life, without his professor drooling over him everytime they spoke. He wished he had a normal relationship, not one with a crackhead who doesn't care for him at all and only uses him as a toy for their pleasure.

Was he ever going to catch a break? At this point he was willing to do anything, sure, but at the cost of his dignity? By securing that... meeting... with his professor he threw away all of his chances. All he could do was dread the upcoming of Thursday and pray that nothing bad would happen. Things were going to go down for sure, but he could at least hope that it wouldn't get too heated. Judging by how open she was in public with him, who knew what she would do at the back of a lowly bar where nobody judged you for what you did.

It was going to be fine. George knew this for a fact. While still shaking slightly he also knew he had to talk to somebody about it. He thumbed through his phone for a few seconds, biting back the urge to just curl up into a ball and sob. After pondering who to call for a few seconds, he eventually gave up and clicked on one of his most recent contacts.

 _Need to see you tonight._ He texted frantically, breath uneven and heart pounding when he pressed send. After that, he looked up and around before slamming his phone into his pocket and making a direct beeline towards home.

//

Dream was phased out of the trance he had fallen into when the computer vibrated with yet another message. George was currently texting Punz, and that meant something was up. He forced himself to look away from the messages he was previously reading and clicked on Punz's contact. He tilted his head. George seemed upset. A lot of people say you can't tell what people mean through texts, but Dream knew that was a lie. Texts send off vibes that you can interpret and figure out how people are feeling and George? He was very upset.

 _Will if I can babe._ Punz responded practically immediately. If calling him 'babe' wasn't bad enough, the next thing Punz sent made Dream physically gag out loud. _P.S. I can still smell you on my fingers. ;)_ God, what a filthy creature. Who in the right mind sends people stuff like that? When Dream finally gets with George, he's going to start out every day sending him a good morning text and end every night with an 'I Love You.' It's the least George deserved. 

The more Dream was forced to acknowledge Punz's existence the harder this became. Punz was like a pebble stuck in your shoe after a long day at the playground - a sharp pain in the side but you don't have the energy to take off your shoe so you just let it fester. It was annoying and Dream was starting to think it was time to get rid of Punz. The only issue was how. How was he supposed to get rid of such a popular person with such a big name without being caught? Maybe he wouldn't need to get rid of him completely, maybe just cut him out of George's life for good. That sounded like a much more idea plan, but once again... how?

George wasn't the type of person you could just forget about. More importantly, Punz wasn't the type of person who would casually just disappear off the map, never to be seen again. That would pose to be an issue. Later, anyways, right now Dream's main focus was directed back to what he had saw a few minutes ago.

 _I learned two definitive things while scouring your computer. First, there are no recent pictures of your dad because he's dead._ George's situation with his dad was much worse than Dream could have imagined. George had been through so much, Dream never would have guessed this. _He OD'd and you were the one that found him. You've started a few poems about that day, but you never finish them._

George must have had some trauma from that night. He was good at hiding it. Overtime he must have gotten over it, but the initial story upset Dream to no end. George didn't need to be put through this. Pity pulled at his heartstrings for the Brit. _I'm so sorry George._

Dream got over his feelings rather quickly. He had to, because what lay in front of him unlocked so many secrets to so many things. _None of this matters because of my second greatest discovery._ He quickly shoved George's past aside as he scrolled up through more text messages, this one from a different conversation entirely. It was the group chat between Sapnap, Bad, Ant, and George. It was this message that he had read earlier that made his heart blossom and his face flush red.

_11:06 AM, an hour after our encounter at the book store, amidst a group text amongst you and your... friends, you wrote..._

"Wow. Just met a human male who actually reads. Alert the media." George had sent to his friends. The smile on Dream's face was so wide and genuine it practically hurt. "What if it's finally time for me to date someone good for me?" His eyes went back as he scanned the message, making sure the message was seared into his brain. Dream wasn't sure a text had ever made him this ecstatic. He reread them over and over again, just taking it in. _Thank you for letting me know I wasn't crazy after all-_

Dream's thoughts were quickly interrupted by a sudden click, followed by a gentle whir and ending with a soft thunk. Dream's head snapped to the right. His eyes widened and his breath stopped as he saw the handle of the front door turn out of the corner of his eye. What the FUCK was George doing home? Dream's heart dropped straight into the pit of his stomach and fear exploded in his chest enough to make it hard to breathe. George must have been on the phone, because his soft British voice rang out throughout the building. "Yes, I remember what you said when you sent money last." He put his keys on the kitchen counter and with a loud sigh. "I'm grateful."

He knew he had to act fast. Dream forced himself off of the messy bed, practically tripping over his clumsy. George would come down that hall any second now and his entire hopes and dreams would be crushed if he was caught here. Dream closed George's computer and stuffed it back under the covers. He didn't bother making it look perfect and he doubted George would even pay attention. Dream slid off the bed and up to the wall, pressing his back against the plaster while giving his heart a moment to calm down. There was more shuffling as George set down the things he was carrying and then he responded to who he was talking with. "I'm working constantly. There's no place cheaper to live."

George was preoccupied in the kitchen. He had been messing around with dishes, craning his neck to keep the phone to his ear. George could never just sit on the phone he had to be doing something else. Dream cursed in his head when he saw that George was blocking the exit. He was stuck, could this get any fucking worse? George groaned, running a hand through his hair and staring in front of him. George was distracted, Dream used this to his advantage.

Slowly, Dream slipped out of George's bedroom and into the direct room across from it. This just so happened to be the living room. George shuffled around out in the kitchen for a few seconds, but Dream didn't know where to go. He couldn't stay in the living room - George would see him. He couldn't open the windows (they weren't that type) and if he stayed in the bedroom the only place he could hide was the closet. That would only make him more trapped.

His fingers nervously drummed the top of his thigh as he shook his head. His eyes quickly scanned the room in a desperate attempt to find an exit. The living room was a bust - he needed to think. His mind rolled back as he tried to remember the layout of the apartment and anything he could use to his advantage. He knew that down the main hall it attached to a bathroom, then the kitchen, and next to the entrance was a smaller closet. That was it. He could make a run for the closet beside the door while George had his back turned. From there, he could hide until it was safe enough to crack open the door and run. It wasn't the best of plans but once you considered the situation Dream was in, it's all he had. 

Dream took a deep breath, giving his mind a moment to calm down. George was here. In the house with him, and Dream didn't have a very good escape plan. He was positive though. He knew that either way this would end up fine, and if he needed to come up with an excuse then he'd come up with an excuse. For now the only thing he cared about was getting the fuck out of George's apartment. With a slight hiss he knew he had to get a better look. His fingers gingerly closed around the wooden frame of the doorway and he peeked his head out, green eyes flashing as he looked for George. At first he thought the Brit was gone, but as soon as he was about to make a run for it George rounded the corner and began his descent down the hall.

Panic spiked in the back of his brain and he tore himself away from the doorway.

"Fuck!" Dream cursed, stepping backwards and forcing himself up against the living room wall. George's footsteps seemed to shake the earth beneath him as George got closer and closer. Dream didn't know what was louder, George's footsteps or his own heartbeat. His forced himself to watch as the small frame of George walked past the doorway, turning left into his room. Much to his delight, George set his phone down for a slight second and lifted his shirt over his head. Dream scanned his topless chest, but his victory was short lived. He needed to leave and frankly he'd much rather ogle George from the safety of his tree rather than right fucking inside.

George walked up to his closet so Dream used this. He took an incredibly deep breath before kickstarting his feet and diving out of the living room. It was unsafe to just head straight to the closet, so he decided to detour into George's bathroom in order to give himself a second to catch his breath. Dream had gotten too caught up with trying to stay quiet that he forgot about his limbs. His elbow smacked into the door with a loud thump and he almost cried out in pain. Fuck, he forgot about his proportions. This apartment wasn't made for tall people and that was evident by how small and crowded this damned bathroom was. He strained his ears for any sign that George had heard anything.

Sure enough, Dream saw the shadow of his bedroom door open more and George step into the hallway. Of course he would.

Dream knew George was on his way. It was only a matter of time before he made it into the bathroom and saw a stranger hiding how. Dream knew that if he got caught he'd throw away any chances of having a future with George. He thought for a few seconds, searching the room while rubbing his elbow tenaciously. His eyes stopped at the shower, scanning it up and down then darting his tongue out to lick his lips.

It was worth a shot right? The curtain looked thick enough to block him out and the tub itself seemed big enough to hold him. Running out of options, Dream rushed forward and sidestepped the curtain. He brought a leg into the tub and immediately pulled himself in, turning so he faced the faucet. He narrowly avoided smacking his head on the metal rod, the curtain swishing with his movements.

The first thing he noticed was that he severely misjudged the size of the shower. He felt misplaced (as he should) and his broad shoulders were practically touching the wall and the curtain themselves. He held his hands to his chest and hunched over, trying to make himself as small as possible. The top of his head brushed against the faucet which was brought down to probably match George's height. Dream felt sick to his stomach. He'd never been this nervous before. He couldn't fuck this up though. Not after all he's been through.

Dream's heart only sank more when through the thinness of the shower curtain he saw George's small silhouette waltz into the room. His frame was fuzzy and Dream didn't dare move too much, but he could tell from here that his phone was pressed against his ear and judging by his posture he wasn't doing too well.

George sighed into his phone. Dream had never been more still in his entire life. He didn't dare breathe. Dream watched as George walked up to the sink and stared at himself in the mirror. He then continued with his conversation. "I did," he said solemnly, voice cold. "She basically offered to sleep with me." There was a pause and George groaned loudly. He was clearly distressed and Dream couldn't blame him. Clearly something had happened with the professor, Dream wasn't a genius but he could make an educated guess that it had something to do with her. He didn't know George's sexuality fully but he didn't think he preferred girls judging by his history. George went on. "No, I can't report her. That's not how it works."

Dream stared up at the faucet of the shower with a blank expression. Both of his hands were balled into fists, tucked closely to his chest. He was squeezing so hard he was no doubt leaving marks in his palms but frankly he wasn't really paying attention. _I'm not worried. I've seen enough romantic comedies to know guys like me are always getting in jams like this._ Dream didn't know what scared him more, the fact that George was actually right next to him or that he was standing in his _damn shower_ while he was spilling his life to whoever he was on the phone with. George clicked his tongue. "Oh come on, that's now how the world works!"

Half of Dream's mind was telling him that this wasn't happening and it was some demented dream. He never expected himself to be in such a situation like this and having George few inches to his left was making him spiral. Yet... deep down, beneath the fear bubbling in his chest he was rather excited. He wouldn't admit it now but this was exhilarating. He felt like toxins were being pumped into his blood and making his mind float. Dream's tongue slipped out and he wet his lips. A sudden movement from George caught the corner of his eye and Dream felt his breath hitch as the boy turned to face the shower.

George moved and stepped so he was directly next to the shower. Dream's eyes widened in horror as George leaned forward. His pale hand brushed past the curtain as he reached into the shower. Dream stopped breathing completely, heart getting caught in his throat. George felt blindly around the wall for a few seconds. Dream felt lightheaded but he forced himself to keep his composure. George's fingers brushed the dial of the shower before wrapping around it and cranking to the left. The pipes in the walls roared as the shower came to life.

Dream had to bite down onto his tongue hard enough to draw blood in order to hold back a shriek. He jumped slightly and almost stumbled back as a blast of cold water erupted from the showerhead, completely drenching his face in a matter of seconds. He clenched his jaw, pressing his tongue to the roof of his mouth in order to keep himself silenced. The bitter taste of copper filled his mouth but that was the last thing on his mind. He scrunched his eyes shut on instinct to try and keep the water from fuckin' blinding him.

"I know how much you have helped me, it's just, it's hard here mom." The Brit's voice rang out as he pulled his hand out of the shower and wiped it on his pants. Dream slowly peaked one eye open and shivered. Dream wasn't one to complain but let me tell you, wearing clothes in the shower is the farthest thing from comfort. He'd only been in the shower for about two seconds and the bulk of his clothes were sticking to his skin. It felt like sandpaper and was scratching away at his sanity. His tensions slipped and so did his guard when he heard George let out a broken sigh. "Okay, I'll figure it out."

Dream wasn't one to get scared easily, but in the situation he was in you couldn't really blame him. He mustered up the courage to scoot back ever so slightly - enough so he could crane his neck upwards and avoid the spitting water that was pelting his body. He was panicking slightly. He felt dizzy from all the commotion and his body being drenched in ice water wasn't making it any better. He needed to calm down, the only way to do that would be to focus on something else. He decided he'd focus on George and for a few seconds he was able to forget the shower.

Dream noticed that George's voice was lathered with a forced cheerfulness that just tore at his heartstrings. After a moment or two of listening to his mother, George brought a hand to his temple and rubbed. "All right. Love you too. Bye mom."

As soon as he hung up, George tossed his phone to the floor. His head fell and he let the tears flow and broken sobs fall from his lips. It was the saddest thing Dream had ever heard. He couldn't see George's face or any details, but he could tell through the curtain that he was gripping the edge of the sink. Probably hard enough to turn his knuckles white. Dream hated hearing him cry. He wanted to get out of this damn shower and hug him, take him into his room and wrap him in that oversized blanket and tell him it's okay. The feeling of the ice cold shower seeping into his clothes was enough to make him scream. Still, he stayed quiet and he didn't budge.

 _It's okay George._ Dream thought in the back of his mind. George let out another hiccuped sob, bringing his hand and wiping at his eyes. Dream somehow managed to turn his head enough to see George's shoulders roll back with each noise he let out. His entire body shook as the memories of today flooded his mind. He just signed himself away to his professor and he was terrified. The talk with his mom had barely helped because deep down he knew there was nothing they could do. George was in this situation due to his choices. To make matters worse, Punz hadn't even called him. Punz didn't even talk to him.

The only thing Punz did was respond with some dirty text that was more of a turn off than a turn on. What a piece of shit.

George reached to turn on the sink and clear his face just for now when his phone erupted into the all too familiar ringtone. He paused, then bent over and picked up his device. George sighed, standing up to his full height and pressing a button on his phone. Dream wanted to physically gag when he heard the even more familiar voices nag at his ears.

"Ello, Gogy!" Sapnap's voice boomed from the phone in a mock British accent. Dream rolled his jaw in annoyance. Of course it was Sapnap, who else would it be? Dream had a feeling whatever Sapnap was about to say wouldn't be very beneficial towards George's situation, but he'd have to see how this would pan out.

"Hey Muffin, where you at? Come hang!" Another voice popped up. Dream automatically recognized it as Bad. The cheery tone gave it away. That, and it's not everyday you hear someone say 'muffin' in the place that Bad does. Dream noticed that he doesn't swear and is actually against it, which is weird considering he hangs around Sapnap of all people. Still, there was a niceness in his voice that Dream gravitated towards, unlike the vile and snappy tone that belonged to Sapnap.

George laughed, his voice hoarse and raw. He sounded choked up and it was obvious he had been crying and probably still was. "I can't. I just had the worst day." There was the sound of shuffling and something falling. There was also the feint sound of honking which made Dream conclude that his friends were in fact, in a car. 

Dream heard a small 'what happened?' by Bad but it was immediately drowned out by Sapnap's extraordinarily loud voice. "Aw, Gogmeister, whatever it is there's nothing that we can't fix, okay?" Sapnap stated, he sounded proud. For the life of him Dream couldn't figure out how Sapnap was so... so endearing, while simultaneously so aggravating. It's just the way he said things that twisted at Dream's mind. Bad added on, however.

"Yes! Us and copious amounts of alcohol!" Bad said excitedly. "Well, Sapnap and Ant, anyways. I'll stick to my Mike's Hard Lemonade." He mumbled on after, probably more for himself than anyone else. Sapnap added in about how there's a sale going on down at some bar and George chuckled at this. At least George sounded somewhat happy. Considering he was just sobbing his heart out a few seconds ago it's surprising how fast he managed to put on a straight face. 

After a few seconds, George took a deep breath. "You guys love me, right?"

Dream couldn't help but roll his eyes. _I'm currently stuck in your shower, George. Now is not the time for your need of self validation. You can do this another time._

"Of course!" Sapnap responded, almost a little too fast. Dream swore he could hear the clinking of his rings as if he were clapping his hands together. "Why would you even say that?" He sounded offended and Dream wanted to snort at this. The water was starting to get to him, but at the same time he was forcing himself to ignore it. It was so fucking cold though - why the hell would George like cold water? Only psychopaths like cold water, and if they were to ever shower together it'd have to be hot. Well, he'd be able to compromise and keep it lukewarm. He'd definitely do that for George. Anything for George.

George blinked. "Okay then. Meet me in Greenpoint."

Sapnap let out a very dissatisfied noise. "Look, why don't you come here, okay?"

"It's actually really fun where we are! I promise!" Bad piped up. He was so happy it was sort of revolting. How was he so cheery all the time? He could be told that his mother died in a car accident and got decapitated and he'd still be like _Oh! That's just the way the muffin crumbles!_ I mean honestly did this man have a breaking point? Dream sort of wanted to find out. At the same time, though, there's nothing scarier when the nice friend snaps and finally goes apeshit.

"There's something I need to do for myself. I'll text you on my way!" George said happily. Sapnap and Bad said their goodbyes after complaining for a solid three minutes and then hung up. After a few seconds of staring at himself in the mirror, George sighed again. "Fuck." He murmured, running a hand through his hair. His voice was quiet and unsettled. George set his phone down on the sink, turning to face the shower once again. Dream shrunk slightly, having a feeling something was about to go down. Now, listen up, Dream wasn't a religious man - if anything he was the farthest from it. Yet, he remembered a saying that his mentor, Technoblade had always said.

_When God sends me to Hell, I want him to hesitate._

And Dream knew if he was caught right here, right now, hiding in George's shower - he'd be sent straight to Hell on the express train, VIP access with Satan giving him a personal tour of all the wonderful things of the underworld.

So thank whoever is up there that George reached back in, only to shut off the shower. Dream suppressed the urge to cheer when the icy cold water ceased. He wasn't one to be a bitch when he was cold but he couldn't help but shiver. The water had seeped through his clothes and went straight to his bones. He was sure that his teeth would be chattering right about now if he wasn't able to control his body. His entire front side was soaking wet, his blonde hair dark and matted and his hands were clammy from being in fists for so long.

George turned and left the bathroom, leaving the wet Dream to think about the situation he's currently in.

Dream let his hands fall as soon as George shut the bathroom door. He was physically shivering, body shaking as water dripped from his soaking wet body and onto the floor of the shower. He looked down at his white shirt that had been rendered see through by the water. His jeans had dark spots starting at the crotch and splashing his legs. It looked like he fucking pissed himself. To make matters worse, his shoes were filled with water. He dared lift one of his legs and physically gagged at the feeling of water seeping between his toes. He shuddered and shook out his hands and his hair, grimacing as water was thrown against the sides. He heard George shuffling outside as he got ready to leave to go meet his friends.

"What the fuck just happened?" Dream whispered aloud, standing in the shower with his mind racing. He needed to take a second and breathe. Outside the bathroom he heard more noises from George and a wave of relief washed over him when he heard the front door open and close. Dream tenaciously pushed the shower curtain back, glancing around the bathroom with his eyes landing on an electric blue towel that sat next to the shower. Dream smiled a little, recognizing it as the one George had used on the first day Dream had saw him. He knew for a fact George would be out late tonight so if he used it, it'd be dry before the Brit got home.

Dream grabbed George's towel and wrapped it around himself for a few seconds, closing his eyes as he was developed in warmth. The towel was far too small for his broad body but at this point he didn't care. He then began drying himself off carefully (ensuring to not spill water all over the bathroom floor despite knowing it'd dry in no time) and this allowed him a moment to think about the conversation George had just had with his friends. He wasn't big on geography and didn't really know what Greenpoint was, he figured it was an area of the city that had numerous areas for people to relax or something. Either way, that's where George was heading.

For a second Dream didn't know if he wanted to follow George. It had already been way too close of a call tonight, should he even take a chance? Would it be worth it?

The answer was yes. Of course it'd be worth it. It's George he's talking about.

_Well, I guess we're going to Greenpoint, George._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well it's been a few weeks since the last update, so first off I'd like to apologize. I took the holidays off of writing and then had to proofread this chapter, to make up for it I tried adding different hints and elements that could possibly make this more amusing so if you liked that, I'm glad! Thank you for sticking with this story and I actually had a lot of fun writing this chapter. I appreciate the support and hopefully will be getting back to the classic schedule. I hope you enjoyed!


	8. Pilot (Chapter 1 Part 8)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> George goes out to party his worries away, he ends up partying a little too hard and finds himself in a not-very-beneficial situation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do not share this with any of the content creators mentioned/anyone famous (?) in reality. This is just a story not meant to cause harm towards anyone, and involves online personas not the real creators themselves. If they have any issues I will not hesitate taking this down.

Dream had a frown on his face the entire walk to Greenpoint. He was cold and tired, his eyelids were drooping and at any moment he felt like he was going to just fall over and die. Thankfully once Dream had finished drying off he was able to put on his very warm sweatshirt that he had left on the floor that happened to be the one thing that didn't get wet. Everything else, however, was soaked.

His white shirt was sticking to his chest, much to his despair his nipples were rock hard from the coldness of the cloth pressed against his flesh. He regretted wearing a white shirt because the shirt stuck to his skin and revealed practically everything. If he wasn't wearing a hoodie he might as well walk around shirtless. His damned skinny jeans were rubbing against his crotch and not in an arousing way. The water was on just long enough to soak into the very fronts of his boxers so he already felt a rash forming. He hadn't had time to get home and change though.

The second George had left, Dream had dried himself off the best he could and hopped out of that shower. He almost slipped and crashed into the sink due to the sudden surprise of water in his shoes that spilled out onto the tile. His socks and shoes had molded together into one squishy mess that provided one of the most uncomfortable sensations he had ever felt. The feeling of water squishing between your toes as you walked was incredibly overwhelming. His skin had become all pruney and wrinkled (really not a good look for him) and he was rather nauseous. He assumed that was just from the rush of what had happened and quickly pushed it aside.

After hanging up the towel he made the mistake of glancing in the mirror. He looked worse for ware. He was a ghostly white with flushed cheeks and bloodshot eyes. He looked insane, for that matter. Thankfully his hair had dried somewhat quickly. That didn't make up for his wet ass and sticky armpits. Oh. The icing on top of the cake? The water was freezing cold. Why the FUCK did George take cold showers? Dream could look past a lot. The uncleanliness, the way he lets others use him, the obliviousness - but cold showers? George, come on, you had to be better than that. Dream didn't know a single person in the entire world that would take a cold shower willingly. Well, on the bright side, Dream guessed that's what makes him stand out. George really was one in a million, and that wasn't an understatement. 

Even after all this is said and done, Dream found himself forgiving George in a matter of minutes. He just has those puppy dog eyes that makes it impossible for Dream to stay mad at. And then there was the fact that he was sobbing earlier and that was majorly upsetting. And then, he was able to pull himself together and was perfectly fine. Almost as if he'd done it before or was used to it. He probably was, considering he's been used practically his entire life. Maybe it's just taking a creepy teacher to make him acknowledge this.

Even with forgiving George, Dream himself wasn't very happy. The weather was horrendous and the wind bit at his ears and nipped at his nose. Dream was lucky to have a dry hoodie yet he couldn't help but tuck his hands a little tighter into his pockets to keep his fingers from falling off. Dream had caught a glimpse of George as he left his apartment a while back. George had dressed himself in the fluffiest jacket he'd ever seen. Blue and soft, it clung to his small frame beautifully. That mixed with the skinny jeans that fit his ass perfectly. He was cute, and Dream wanted to grab him and kiss him all over his face and neck until he was a mewling mess beneath him.

Which brings them back to the current situation. Dream was walking down the street of Greenpoint, body hunched over in terrible posture as he struggled to keep himself somewhat warm. His head swung back and forth as he scanned the streets. It wasn't that bad of a neighborhood, with colorful lights and plants spread around neatly. It was more of a place meant for aesthetics and pleasing for the eye, not very practical because the buildings were all run down with vines seemingly being the only thing holding them together. It was cute, no wonder George liked it. The thing was, it's incredibly crowded. The buildings are so close together the only way to get somewhere is by foot or bike, a motorcycle if you're lucky.

Quite a contrast from where George lived, if he did say so himself. _I never go to Greenpoint. Never had interest in going._ He thought to himself as he took a sharp right into a walkway. He was hit with the smell of pork and ribs, along with the sharp tinge of tequila. Now that Dream was here he realized that he'd seen it before. _But the things you do for love, right?_ He passed it a few times when he went to certain areas. It wasn't his favorite.

Nonetheless, he continued walking. He eventually came up to one of the most popular dining establishments in the area. It was a bar, probably one of the best ones around. Dream at first hard worried that he'd lost George's trail a while back, but after checking his socials he could have guessed that he was at a bar. George just needed to drink, didn't he. The bar itself was packed to the brim, people sitting hunched over tables, talking at the bar and even standing around a massive stage up at the front. Dream had to turn sideways in order to avoid bumping into people. The good thing about it being crowded with people was that the packed bodies were giving off heat. Body mass, body heat, or some shit. He didn't know and he didn't care. The place was warm and he was living for it.

Dream's eyes searched the room, looking for George. Despite being incredibly short he was relatively easy to spot considering he was wearing a neon blue sweater. George was standing at the bar, leaning over it with a laid back smile. His hair was gelled in a cute little swoop to the right, his eyes were bright and he seemed happy even though his day was currently shit. "Hi, um, okay, we're gonna get a few more drinks." He stated to the bartender, who gave him a curt nod before turning back to the shelves and shelves of different types of alcohol. He then turned around and frantically waved to his three friends. Dream could tell he was already wasted judging by his deeper voice and how wobbly his hand movements were.

George wasn't afraid to get drunk so hey, props to him.

Dream turned his head to look at George's friends and he couldn't help but bark out a laugh. The three of them were looking back at George with the most vile expressions he'd ever seen. They clearly didn't want to be there, you could tell not only because of their expressions but because of the outfits they were wearing. Antfrost looked uncomfortable. He was wearing incredibly short shorts that barely hid anything, along with a lacy crop top that went down about halfway. His hands were folded neatly in his lap and he sort of stared, shifting back and forth in his seat. Dream took a wild guess and assumed that the people here were the type to either curse the gays or get too touchy.

Bad didn't look too uncomfortable, but it was clear that he wasn't in his environment. He wore something similar to Ant, except with a normal shirt and shorts, along with thigh high leather boots. He was trying to make light of the situation, but the others were disgusted. Bad kept glancing around as if he were about to be jumped and gang banged by everybody in the damn bard. The poor guy just wanted to party, and judging by the barely touched glass of 'lemonade' in front of him he had no plans on getting even remotely wasted. Dream felt a twang of pity for him.

Sapnap was the worst. Bad and Ant were at least trying to hide their feelings, but Sapnap was a wild beast and had his disgust written all over his face. His head was tilted up in a show of superiority, his neck and fingers were dazzling with jewelry. Then there was that stupid white bandanna tied around his forehead, black hair cascading down the sides. Sapnap glanced from George, to Antfrost and Bad, then back to George. "What the hell is he thinking? Open mics are for models-slash-singer-songwriters-slash-vegans. These people don't want to hear some wannabee read a poem about the bleakness of life or whatever."

Dream's jaw actually dropped at this. Sapnap had said that without any hesitation, the man really had no filter. He just singlehandedly destroyed George's career and the worst thing is, George had no idea that Sapnap talked about him like that. Instead, the Brit was at the bar ordering them all drinks. While George was being kind and thinking that they were there for him, they were talking behind his back about the one thing he truly cared about and worked hard on? A rage burned inside of Dream, one that was fully directed towards Sapnap. When Dream gets with George, Sapnap is going to be the first thing to go.

Well, second. Dream still hard to do something about Punz. He'd worry about that later though.

Dream didn't care what George said, Sapnap was pissing him off. _Your friends are disloyal, and Sapnap is the fucking worst._ Dream stepped back and sat down in one of the chairs, angling it towards the three. He waved down the waiter and quickly ordered a few drinks. He had to look somewhat normal and be as less conspicuous as he could be.

Just in time too, because George had just came back with three glasses of... bourbon? Did George really bring back whiskey? He walked up to the three and smiled, the second they saw him their faces lit up and they greeted him nicely. Dream snorted at this, they were such snakes. They talk about him behind his back, but the second he comes back they shed their skin and act like nothing happened. As if they weren't talking shit about him just now. Dream rolled his eyes at this, he just wanted to take George home and care for him correctly.

They all gave a fake cheer when he set down the drinks. Bad looked like he could actually throw up from the thought of drinking bourbon (anything truly alcoholic, really) and Ant's face gave way into a small frown of disgust. Sapnap glanced around for a second, then looked up at George who was swaying on his feet with a wide smile on his face. His expression was blissful and he seemed rather content with himself. Sapnap took a deep breath, gathering his thoughts then speaking up to George. "Gogy, do we think now is the night?" He asked, raising a brow at the Brit. George cocked his head for a second, leaning forward with a slight nod.

"Positive! All of my life lately has been about surviving, I need to remind myself why I came here in the first place." His words were slow and drawn out. Cheerful, yes, but he couldn't quite say certain words without them ending mumbled and slurred. Dream was rather curious, how many drinks has he had? George was able to get drunk at incredibly fast speeds yet again he was incredibly tiny.

Ant clapped his hands together. "Yes! You go George!" Ant seemed to be trying to enjoy himself... that's the difference between Sapnap and Antfrost, though. Sapnap was brutally honest and will say things straight to your face whilst Ant at least managed to sweep it under the rug and lie. Dream didn't know which one was worse, to be honest.

Sapnap's chocolate voice tore Dream from his thoughts. "Who are you texting?" It was just now Dream noticed that George had pulled out his phone and was glaring into the screen. His eyes and nose were scrunched as if that would give him a better read on the phone. Dream guessed he could barely read it at this stage. George was also shaking slightly but Dream didn't know if this was from the alcohol or nerves. After a few seconds of silence and Sapnap asking again, George looked back at his friend with a somber expression.

"I, uh, I invited Punz-" George started. Sapnap's eyes widened in disbelief and his mouth went slack. George must have saw that because he quickly became defensive. "What?! He likes poetry!"

Sapnap rolled his eyes. "And he texted you he was coming?"

George looked back down at his phone, squinting once more. "He texted a row of smile emojis, like, forty five minutes ago..." his voice trailed off at the end and his gaze fell to his sneakers. The same damned sneakers he wore every single day. George gripped his phone in his hand tightly, letting the realization hit. Sapnap clearly wasn't impressed with George's answer because he sat back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest. Ant and Bad shared an awkward glass before both taking a sip of their respective drinks.

"Some guys are assholes and you just have to realize that." Sapnap said clearly. George grumbled something in response. Sapnap wasn't satisfied with whatever he said because he threw his hands in the air in some exaggerated gesture. "You're the one who told me to keep reminding you he's a bastard!"

George went to say something in return when he was interrupted by the loud speaker. The group's attention was diverted for just a few seconds, they turned to the stage where a man was standing next to the mic. "Up next, we have a fellow named George!" His voice rang out. It had one of those stadium undertones, thick and demanding. George's face lightened at this. He turned back to his group for a final time. They managed to muster up a fake cheer, bringing their glasses up and clinking them. Sapnap looked away immediately meanwhile Ant and Bad has somewhat reassuring smiles on their faces. George blindly reached for one of the drinks. He picked up Bad's shot of bourbon that he had brought and downed it in a matter of seconds, giving them a wink. "To vulnerability and shit!"

"Language." Bad said firmly, but there was a smile on his face that made George giggle. "Have fun up there!" Bad added after, voice high and shrill and happy. Dream still wanted to know what it looked like when he snapped and went feral but desperate times call for desperate measures and right now he was just focused on George.

He was also ready to feel the second-hand embarrassment. 

George stumbled forward, making his way through the crowds and up onto the stage. He narrowly avoided tripping. As soon as George got up onto the stage it looked as if realization hit. He froze for a second, fingers clutching the thin stand of the mic in front of him. All eyes were on him. More importantly, Dream's eyes were on him. George looked like the stage could just swallow him up and he'd never be seen again. George was an introvert. Going up on stage and performing a poem in front of about a hundred people was probably one of his biggest nightmares. Up there, he looked like a deer in headlights.

Still, as a writer you needed to put yourself out there otherwise your work would never get spread. George must have known this, because beneath the alcohol he was probably screaming at himself to leave and just run out those damned archways. Much to Dream's surprise, he stayed. Dream knew for a fact that if he weren't buzzed right now he wouldn't get within ten feet of that stage. George took a deep breath and collected his thoughts.

"Hey everyone..." he squeaked out, voice minuscule and barely audible. If the mic wasn't there, there's no way in hell you'd be able to hear him. "Um, I'm George, and I uh..." he paused again. Dream could tell from here that he was sweating bullets. His forehead gleamed in the warm lights of the stage and underneath his sweater his chest was heaving up and down. Dream silently hoped he could manifest some strength and send it over to the Brit. Lord knows he needs it. Dream cast a glance around the crowd. It was a sad sight. They were looking up at him expectantly and had no idea that he was probably about to bore them to death. Dream loved reading, he really did, but poetry was never his strong suit. He knew how to write but he wasn't a fan of writing them.

Up on the stage, George took in another deep breath and gave out a nervous laugh. "Not to sound like, y'know, whatever... but just, I'm a poet." He stumbled over his words as if he didn't have a full sentence planned out before he started it. Despite that it had this tinge to it, one that sounded happy. If anything he sounded excite, pure bliss, which is something you rarely find when you're sober. Dream gave a nod to the waiter as he dropped off his drinks and for a question Dream wondered if he should get a little tipsy. Maybe that would help him swallow what was about to go down.

"YEAH YOU ARE!" A voice boomed from the crowd. It was so loud it made Dream jump. He whipped around to see Ant practically standing, hands cupped around his mouth and letting out a cheer. Bad and Sapnap looked up at him, horror etched out on their faces. Dream giggled, of course Ant would embarrass them. Dream knew that he was only loud to cover up and hide his insecurities, as most people were. The louder the people the more insecure is a pattern he had seen one too many times. That definitely explained the horrendous outfit he was wearing. Dream wouldn't let George be seen like that, who knows what people would think?

Even though Dream disagreed with the way Ant acted, along with what he wore, it seemed to help George out. It gave him that small confidence boost. He gave Ant a hefty smile and looked down at his phone. And then he began reading off his poem. "One day, you won't need love anymore." George started, voice weak and feeble. Dream already knew this was going to end badly and the second-hand embarrassment was already starting to coil in his gut. This wasn't good, considering George had only said one line. He continued, though. "One day, you won't walk through the world as though it was your job to hold everything up."

George's fingers clasped the mic in front of him. He looked like he was about to pass out. The crowd was dead silent and Dream had a feeling it wasn't from amazement. "The sun, the hard part of the night, the secret time when you wake to the sound of beating..." Dream bit his lip. George's voice was slowly starting to break. After he finished a line he'd inhale sharply, then let out a very shaky breath. This was awful. "You rise to answer the door, but he's not there, because that sound is coming from inside you." Another break in his voice. His eyes were no doubt stinging with tears and after everything that happened, Dream did not want to see him cry. Just hearing it was enough. Seeing it would make it entirely too real.

"And you cannot answer it, no matter how far in you go." George stated. He then made the mistake of looking up. Practically nobody was looking at him now. Sapnap was staring down at the table, refusing to even glance in his direction. Bad was trying to stay focused but he kept squirming at the awkward tension, meanwhile Ant was being supporting by flashing him a thumbs up. That was a mistake, because George took it as a sign to keep going. Dream had never wanted anything more than for him to stop right now before he made a bigger fool of himself then he already has. George gulped, then continued on. "You loved him the way fragile kids loved fragile bullies-"

Fuck, that one hurt. George needed to get off that stage or he's going to completely tarnish his reputation. George had so much better material so why was he sharing this one? It was painful to watch. Yet, he pushed on. Dream gave him points for that. This couldn't be easy. "You wrote songs about him, you..." George trailed off when a guy walked past him holding symbols. They crashed together and he bit his lip. It completely drowned the small boy out. By now, the only attention he was getting was negative. He then shook his head in an attempt to clear his thoughts. "Uh, I mean, you wrote poems about him. You still write poems about him, you're writing one now."

A voice from the crowd interrupted his pathetic attempt of entertainment. "Why are you so sad?" Someone called out. Dream's neck craned and he saw it was some random hillbilly drinking what looked to be his eleventh beer or some shit. "You're just so sad. Just, something happier, for a change, would be nice. I think everyone agrees." The man waved his hand in a circular motion. Sapnap facepalmed from where he was sitting, and George just stared at the stranger in a silent plead for him to stop talking. "Get the singer back."

George physically recoiled at this. His eyes were blurred with tears and he wiped at them with his thumb. "Sorry, I just, lost my place. It'll just take a second to find were I was." He looked back down at his phone. Dream forced himself to stand. He turned away from George, rolling his shoulders. _I can't stand seeing this. I'm sorry, I just can't._ He hurried out of the bar, leaving his drinks untouched. It was probably for the better. This was just too painful to watch. George was about to have a breakdown on stage and in front of his nasty friends and judgmental crowd it was... it was heartbreaking. _It's so obvious what you are. You're blind with love._

Haha, Dream couldn't relate.

 _And what you love, writing, this city, your friends, most of all, men like Punz - what all those have in common is they will never love you back. While you give everything._ Dream hurried forward. He'd only been in Greenpoint for less than half an hour and he already despised it. He didn't want to leave George is there at the mercy of the drunken crowd but he had no choice. He'd rather bash his head into the wall over and over again than stay in there. That wasn't even an exaggeration. He wanted to be done with today, go home and sleep. He flipped a u-turn then disappeared down into the subway. He just wanted to go. _It's crazy, the lengths we go. We're a lot alike, George. Last of the true romantics._

Thankfully there was nobody in the subway. Dream didn't want to be around any buddy. He was done with today, he was done with the events. As if being drenched in a shower wasn't enough, he had to listen to George's sad and lonely poem. Oh, the problems of being in love. Dream had been once. It didn't end very well. That's why this was different. George... was different. Dream made his way to one of the entrance lines and stood somberly. His hands were parked in his pockets. He snuggled into the warmth of his hoodie, shrinking down slightly. This subway was starting to freak him out.

There may have been nobody around, but echoing on the few speakers placed at random locations was a very unnerving song. The words seemed to be playing on the speaker like a broken record - replaying the same thing over and over again.

_Engine engine number nine._

_On the New York transit line._

_If my train goes off the track._

_Pick it up._

_Pick it up._

_PICK IT UP._

There was something about it that put Dream off. Maybe it was the way the raspy voice echoed throughout the subway. Maybe it was the fierceness of it, or the way the same lyrics played over and over again. Dream shifted awkwardly on his feet, glancing up at the dirt stained clock that lay on the wall. The train should be coming soon, it was only a matter of time. Dream was about to pull out his phone to distract himself and maybe even play music to get rid of the ghastly song when there was a loud thunk and the sound of shuffling.

Dream turned his head. His eyes widened and his once blank expression turned into that of surprise at who he saw stumbling down the stairs. It was George, in all his drunken glory. His eyes were practically shut, his face was flushed red and he couldn't walk in a straight line. _Could it really be? I must be dreaming._ Dream thought. Dream then realized that it really was George, so on instinct he sidestepped and shuffled behind one of the pillars. He watched as George walked past him without a second thought before stepping between two of the cement columns. He pulled out his phone instantly, probably texting someone. Drunk texting was never a good thing. Well, getting as drunk as George was in this moment wasn't a good thing either. He couldn't stand without swaying and he was constantly putting a hand out on the podium to stabilize himself.

Dream couldn't help but wonder what had gone on after he left. He could only imagine the humility and shame that George had felt - especially if he left the bar alone fully knowing the state he was in. It's a surprise that his friends even let him go alone. Dream's fingers closed around the podium he was hiding behind and he gritted his teeth. He kept giving George's friends a chance to prove themselves but each and every one of them continued to be a let down. Dream couldn't see from where he was hiding but he had a feeling deep down that George had been crying yet again that night.

Speaking of that... George wasn't looking too good. His sweater was ruffled and bunched against his waist and Dream swore he could smell the liquor from over here. He pressed his chest against the podium but leaned out enough to keep his eyes on George without giving his position away. _George, you're too drunk to be alone. What if some sicko followed you down here?_ George stepped forward, closing his eyes for a brief second before shaking his head and stepping forward again. He was getting dangerously close to the yellow line that explicitly said "Do Not Cross" and Dream had a feeling something was going to go very wrong. _You're too wasted to be standing so close to the tracks._

There was no telling how many drinks George had. What used to be a feeling of bliss and happiness had quickly turned sour and into confusion and a bundle of nerves. His coordination was off and his mind wasn't working at full capacity, it felt like he was half asleep. The world seemed to be spinning in front of him, hence the swaying, and this brought a wave of nausea falling over his body. He was incredibly intoxicated. Dream knew not to blame him, after the night and day he's endured he had all the rights to drink his problems away but standing directly next to the tracks of a subway wasn't the safest thing in the world.

_Engine engine, number nine. One the New York transit line._

George's mind was lagging. His world was fuzzy and he couldn't comprehend the situation he was in. His hands were shaking as he frantically texted Punz. He didn't know why, if anything Punz was the last person he wanted to communicate with. He didn't know what else to do. The massive migraine he was going to have tomorrow was no match to the broken heart that was currently beating in his chest. His eyes were heavy, tear tracks stuck on his face as his fingers pressed the way too small of buttons. Dream started to become uneasy as George took yet another step forward, dragging one of his feet across the thick yellow line painted on the floor. _George! George, stop texting that arrogant, club-soda, no-show dickhead!_ Dream screamed at him in his mind. He didn't realize it but Dream was slowly starting to reveal himself. George was just being so fucking stupid. He needed to step back.

_If my train goes off the tracks... pick it up, pick it up, pick it up._

George to Punz: Hey! Why didn't you show up to my poetry reading? I wanted you to be there.

 _You want Punz. You need Punz. You hold that phone like it is Punz 'cause it only means you stay connected. Forget him._ George waited and waited for a reply. When nothing happened, he clenched his fist. The one time he needed Punz, the one time he needed any form of support the motherfucker couldn't answer. George was now filled with a drunken rage which, if anything, was even worse than how he was before. Punz was a fucking asshole, everyone told him this. He angrily reached behind him to put his phone in his pocket. Dream's mind yelled at him to act, his brain ordering his body to move. Dream stepped aside the podium, reaching his hand out and calling for George. He didn't care if he blew his cover, he needed to save George now.

But he was too late. George had failed to hear while simultaneously failing to put his phone in his damned skinny jeans. Tears were streaming down his face. His eyes were blurry, his mind had gone foggy and his breath was uneven and shaky. He went to put his phone in his front pocket when his grip slipped. His phone jumped from his hands and he fumbled for it, leaning forward and closing his fingers in a desperate attempt to save his prized possession. Dream's eyes widened in horror and the world seemed to turn into slow motion as George lost his footing and tripped.

_It was at that moment the lyrics to the song changed for the first time._

His body went sprawling over the edge. He hit the ground with a thud, mind so empty he didn't even cry out. George grunted as his head smacked into the ground, limbs spread out against the wooden boards of the track. Dream froze at first, watching as George's body heaved up and down. He started coughing, nasty noises were ripped from his throat as his body seemed to spasm almost. George couldn't see shit. The tears were stinging his eyes and his head spun. His heart was pounding in his ears. His senses were overwhelmed and as he tried to open his mouth to speak, to say anything, the only thing that came out was a choked sob.

_Engine engine number nine._

George didn't even have the strength to stand up. Dream couldn't believe that he started sobbing in the _middle_ of the _fucking_ train tracks. Dream loved him to death but now was not the time to have a meltdown. George's hair had fallen in his face and hidden his expression from view and the small boy let out a groan of pain as if the blow from falling had just hit now.

_On the New York transit line._

Fuck it. Dream could care less about George finding him here. He ran along the edge, skidding to a stop right above George. "Hey! Hey!" He hissed. Dream dropped to his knees, reaching a hand out. George was so close yet so far. "You okay? Are you alright? Can you stand up?" Dream spammed him with questions. George slowly turned and looked up at him through an eyeful of tears. He somehow managed to push himself up on his hands, but kept his lower half on the ground. His eyes were glossy and he looked incredibly confused. Dream was trying to keep calm but George was in danger and Dream would to anything in his power to get him out of the situation now.

_If your guy falls on the tracks._

"Just stay still." Dream ordered, bringing his hands to his head. He grabbed fistfuls of his hair and pulled, racking at his brain to think of something to do. Something to say. His eyes scanned the tracks for a few seconds. "Half that shit down there can electrocute you, alright? Just, just give me your hand." He reached down again, gripping the edge of the platform incredibly tightly. Fear was spiking in Dream's body and latching onto his soul like a bloodsucking leech. George looked even worse now, with a face covered in dirt and charcoal. He eventually started to reach for Dream's hand, fingers trembling uncontrollably. 

_Pick him up._

Dream couldn't quite reach him. His arm-span was short, their fingers were inches away from grasping. Dream bit his lip as he adjusted the positioning of his knees, angling his hips and pressing the tips of his shoes into the cement in some attempt to keep himself steady. George wasn't being much help, in fact he wasn't even extending his arm out fully. "C'mon, reach." Dream pleaded, voice dripping with concern and fear. He could care less about himself. Dream leaned a little too far forward and his body lunged.

 _Pick him up._

Dream cursed as his legs slipped and he narrowly avoided toppling over and joining George at the bottom of the tracks. Dream's mind was racing yet he refused to give up on the Brit. George was still shaking and he looked utterly terrified - face a ghostly white with all the usual warm color drained. Dream gritted his teeth, taking his right hand and hooking it along the edge of the platform. His nails scratched against the cement, tearing his fingernails to shreds but the adrenaline pumping through his veins caused him to ignore it. He leaned forward as much as he could, eyes flashing as he saw George pushed himself up to meet Dream's hand.

_PICK HIM UP!_

They were so close. Their fingertips touched, brushing against each other and sending sparks through both of them. Brown eyes locked with green, pupils wide with fear and terror. Right as Dream was about to get a better grip, George's hands slipped beneath him and his body fell backwards. "Come on you were so close! Do it again!" Dream's voice was sharp and dangerous while trying to be calm and understanding. George didn't pay attention to this though. His head snapped to look into the dark tunnel that lay before him. His body went rigid and every muscle tensed.

That's when Dream heard the loud blast of a train's horn and saw two bright lights appear down in the depths of the dark tunnel.

_The fucking train was coming._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here’s a back to back post because I want to get back into my 3 day thing :) Anyways I hope you enjoyed my cliffhanger <3 This chapter was a lot of fun to write and I had even more fun incorporating the lyrics to the song thing. In the series, a homeless guy is actually singing the song but I didn't really want to write that in and the lyrics were "girl" and "pick her up" so obviously it's a minor change but yeah :D thanks for reading I hope you enjoyed!


	9. Pilot (Chapter 1 Part 9)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do not share this with any of the content creators mentioned/anyone famous (?) in reality. This is just a story not meant to cause harm towards anyone, and involves online personas not the real creators themselves. If they have any issues I will not hesitate taking this down.

Dream guessed that George had about forty five seconds before he was going to be nothing but a fuzzy blue pancake. George needed to take his hand _now_ or there'd be no George left. George was paralyzed with fear and for a second Dream didn't think he'd be able to snap out of it. It wasn't going to end like this, no, it's not going to end like this. Dream leaned over the edge as much as he could, ignoring the pain of his knees scraping the hard cement and his nails scratching the underbelly of the edge. He stretched his arm as hard as he could, enough so that his muscles were screaming. "Your hand, now!" He barked, voice so loud his throat wouldn't let it down for the next few weeks.

His loud voice seemed to do the trick. George snapped out of his trance. The adrenaline running through him must have temporarily blocked the alcohol. He was slow in his movements. George forced himself to his feet, and to Dream's dismay he of course had to grab his phone. Dream would certainly ruin him later for this. This was something he'd resolve later the only thing he cared about was getting George the fuck out of there. Dream saw the front of the train burst out from the abyss and make its way towards George at alarming speeds.

George finally walked forward and interlocked his fingers with Dream's. Dream didn't hesitate. The second their hands locked together he planted the soles of his feet into the platform and pulled with any strength he had left that day. George was incredibly light so he was brought up with ease, narrowly avoiding the train as it shot past the two and sent a rush of air in their direction. In fact, Dream underestimated his strength because George literally went flying through the air. In an attempt to soften his landing he let his body fall backwards, George landing on top of him and knocking the wind out of Dream with a dull thud. George's phone flew from his hands and slid across the platform disappearing underneath one of the benches. Dream's head smacked against the concrete a little too hard on impact and his vision blurred. George grunted on top of him, body slack and limp as he recovered from what the hell had just happened.

The two laid there together on the floor for a good minute or two. Their legs were entangled and chests pressed against each other. Dream's hands were holding him by the sides of his chest, George is clutching his shoulders for dear life. They didn't say a word. After a few more seconds, Dream's brain finally collected itself. His vision came back fully and he let out a raspy wheeze. George shifted on his chest and for a second, Dream didn't want to even move. George weighed practically nothing on top of him. His body was shaking and he was unbelievably cold. Dream looked down to see his head cradled in Dream's chest, cheek pressed against his hoodie and eyes scrunched tight. The putrid scent of booze and alcohol was all he could smell but it didn’t really matter.

It may have been a very wrong time, but Dream couldn't not-notice how George's sweater had rode up his hips to reveal his very pristine and very smooth back. His spine was incredibly visible and the small arch of his back was memorizing. Dream's hands trailed down slightly as they brushed his tender skin. It was ice cold yet he was drenched with sweat. George was still trembling beneath him and practically gasping for air. His body pressed flush against Dream's was making the taller man spiral. This wasn't exactly how he planned on confronting George but if he wasn't here, George would be smushed and then he'd never get a chance with him.

If George would have died tonight, Dream had a feeling he wouldn't have hesitated to follow.

The smaller male stayed silent on his chest. Underneath him, Dream could feel George's heartbeat against his own. It was racing, in fact they were both practically in sync. Dream's breathing was heavy and he was a little shaken up and for a second he thought George had passed out in front of him. That was until George started moving. His fingers gripped Dream's shoulders tighter and he pushed himself up so he was directly over the blonde.

Staring up at George right now, Dream felt the stars align. Stark green eyes locked with chocolate brown. George looked at Dream, his luscious lips were trembling and his eyes were still brimming with tears. Dream felt a strong sense of guilt for some reason. He felt bad for George, his life was fucked up and this was probably the last thing he needed. George was breathing heavily as he looked at Dream. He opened his mouth to say something, anything, but what came out... well, it was pretty far from words.

The second George went to speak, his back arched and his eyes glazed over. Burning hot bile erupted from his throat as he wretched all over Dream. Dream gagged at this, immediately letting go of George to wipe at his eyes. He didn't move, though. He let George finish throwing up on him, and once he did he pushed himself off of Dream and rolled onto his back. Dream sat up immediately, wiping his face and mouth with a shiver. These weren't the exact liquids Dream had wanted from George but hey, it was what it was.

He glanced over at George, whose eyes were closed and he had an arm draped over his face. His chest was heaving and his breaths were incredibly uneven. The train was long gone by now, and George was struggling to keep himself from having another breakdown. Dream sympathized for him, but at the same time he was rather revolted since he was covered in George's barf. He shook himself, grimacing at the smell. And then suddenly he heard giggling. A sharp sound that somehow made Dream relax. He glanced over at George, who had put his arm down and was looking up at Dream with tired eyes.

"Holy shit."

//

Dream was currently standing in front of a random grocery store, pouring water all over his green hoodie. He watched with a blank expression as he worked out the bile that had soaked into it. The second George was able to collect his thoughts he immediately brought Dream up the subway and to this little store. While Dream was washing off his hoodie (or trying to) George was inside buying who knows what. Tonight wasn't going according to plan and scrubbing off barf from his hoodie wasn't exactly what he wanted to do. Still, he was with George and that was making up for it. Deep down he sort of wished George might take him home and let him crash at his place but he knew for a fact that wasn't going to happen.

Dream's heart was still racing from what had just happened. He heard that stupid song play in his head all distorted like-and he swore he could still feel the rush of air as the train barreled past them. He felt George’s fingertips dig into his shoulders and he groaned inwardly, rolling them back with a cock of his head. He was incredibly sore and his head was hurting like a bitch, no doubt from the blow he had taken from belong a landing pad for George.

There was the ringing of bells that caught Dream's attention. He turned around to see George walk out of the small grocers, stuffing some change back into his pocket. He walked up to Dream, cheeks red with embarrassment as he rubbed the back of his neck. He looked somewhat better, face was still scuffed and smudged with dirt but the color was starting to come back. "Oh, my God. Oh, my God. I am so sorry." George's voice was quiet and he was clearly ashamed. Dream flashed him a warm smile, turning to face him fully. He held the water in his hands and shook his head.

"No, it's fine, it's fine. I uh, I hated this hoodie anyways." Dream lied. He loved this hoodie, it matched his eyes. He was willing to lie for George, though. If he had to say he didn't like a hoodie then so be it. Even though he smelled downright awful and even though he was tired, being with George put him at ease. It's like he had a bubble around him and the second you step in all your worries just evaporate. It was sweet. And more importantly, Dream was having a conversation with his favorite person in the world that wasn't through a window or to himself. 

George bit his lip. Fuck, it was even cuter up close. "I really am sorry." Dream quickly accepted his apology once more. George looked downright miserable. Dream watched as the Brit twisted his body and reached into the bag that was hanging on his arm. He pulled out another water bottle. George brought it to his lips and he began slurping it down. Dream had to dig his nails into his palms to resist the urge to look at his perfect neck. There was a time and a place for thoughts like that and right now? This was probably the worst time to be thinking about those things with George. He buried the urges into the very back of his mind and looked George in the eyes as he drank.

Dream sighed. "You know what? Let's get you in a cab, alright?" He offered. As much as he didn't want to leave George, he knew he should probably get him home. Dream may be falling for this man but he had his priorities straight. He knew when to call it a night and it was far past George's bedtime. George stopped drinking at this. He pulled the bottle away. Dream stared at his unbelievably pink lips, taking in the glistening layer of water that made them look even more delicious. Dream wanted to grab him and wipe the water off, or better yet, kiss him. He wanted to know what it felt like. He wanted to know if it would be like how they imagined.

He restrained himself, though, and turned to the street. Dream walked forward and held his hand up to gesture for a cab when George's voice pulled him from his thoughts. "I'm not always like this." His spoke in a low tone, he almost sounded defeated. Dream turned around and looked at him, letting his hand fall to his side.

"I figured you had some kind of night." He said cheerfully. Dream knew he had to keep it cool. He didn't know how he was going to play this. He saw it as two options - he could introduce himself and maybe George would remember, or he could just stay silent and keep to himself. Let George take the wheel. That was practically a gamble, considering how crazy George was. Dream decided to take the risk because he wanted George to be comfortable, despite the situation. 

George scoffed. "Some kind of." Dream grinned at this, turning back to the road and waving. George brought his thumb up and pushed it past his lips, taking the tips of his teeth and gnawing on the skin. His brown eyes stared at Dream intently, taking everything in about the man who had saved his life. After a few seconds of evaluation, he let out a nervous laugh. "Hey, I don't want to sound like a stalker, but uh, I think I know you."

Dream felt his muscles tense and his body go rigid. For a second he was scared that George was about to talk about how he knew of Dream's doings, how he's been watching him and more importantly got off to the thought of them fucking on his couch. Oh... and then there's the fact he was just hiding in his shower a few hours ago. Dream blinked, shifting on his feet and racking at his brain. Think, Dream, think! "Oh! Um, right! Of course! I remember, I'm sorry." He stumbled over his words. Great.

The Brit laughed at him for a second. He took one of his hands and ruffled his hair, messing it up completely. It was cute and endearing. George gave him that familiar smile. "This is what I look like when I'm sober and don't give a damn about my looks."

"Yeah. No, I remember." Dream bit back his sigh of relief. He just dodged a bullet for that one. That could have been a massive train wreck, no pun intended.

George, however, let out a long, withdrawn sigh. "It's okay. I have a pretty bland face."

"No you don't." Dream snapped, a little too quickly. George blinked at him. Fuck. When he was around George it was hard to control himself. Dream reflected this with a shrug. George raised a brow at Dream. He had to think of something fast. This night required a lot of thinking on his feet. "Yeah, uh, Desperate Characters. I remember." George nodded awkwardly and Dream made a silent prayer that he hadn't just blown the entire cover. Not that he had a cover. This was just a lucky break. What were the odds they were in the right place at the right time, and they just so happened to run into each other? Dream saw this as an absolute win. With that in mind, he would not like to fuck it up now because of George's prettiness.

The awkward tension between the two was suffocating. It weighed down on Dream like a pile of bricks. George had brought his hands together and was shifting awkwardly from foot to foot. Dream looked down at his shoes, unsure of what to say. Thankfully after a few seconds of suffering the taxi pulled up in all it's yellow, checkered glory. "Where are you headed?" Dream asked, leaning forward and opening the door. It was the gentleman thing to do. George seemed pleased at this, because the awkwardness washed away and was replaced with a heartwarming smile.

"Village. You anywhere close?" After a second, he stepped forward. "Ride with me. It's the least I can do."

Dream was about to pass out from excitement. Yet he learned from his mistakes and didn't jump to say yes. Instead, he brought his hand up to his chin. George must have saw him pondering because he stepped forward and looked up at him. His eyes were wide and pleading, he flipped his lip out in a forced pout and his brows were furrowed. Dream smirked. George knew exactly what he was doing, and it worked perfectly. Dream rolled his eyes and fake yawned. "Okay, if you insist."

George squealed in happiness. He pushed past Dream and slipped into the car, practically grabbing Dream's hand and pulling him in. Dream shut the door behind him as George gave the driver directions to his apartment. The driver nodded and before they knew it, the two were heading off to his house. Dream had never been more happy in his life. George was sitting next to him, in a cab, while they were going to his house. As if Dream wasn't there a few hours ago, that wasn't as real. And it may or may not be against the law, but who cares? Dream had a wild smile on his face. Sometimes you just can't hide it.

For the first few minutes the ride was silent. Unlike before, it wasn't an awkward silence. It was a comfortable silence. Dream found himself looking down at his seat for the majority of the time, but he kept glancing at George. Every time he did his heart did a backflip. George was sitting with his hands in his lap. His hair had fallen in his face, and every few seconds he'd take a sleeve and push it back behind his ears. It was one of those oversized sweaters that allowed him to keep his hands in at all times. It was overwhelmingly cute. George would often turn his gaze out the window with a satisfied sigh. Everything about this was perfect. Dream still didn't smell the best, sure, but George didn't seem to mind. George wasn't doing the best either.

Dream made sure to remind himself that George was still drunk. He wasn't as bad as before, the rush from almost being flattened by a train probably the cause for that. Dream constantly found his mind going back to the feeling of them together back at the tracks. George was on top of him, holding on for dear life. Remember earlier when they had a small conversation about validation? There's nothing more validating then someone grabbing your hand and you lifting them to safety. George had trusted Dream with his life. That was the best feeling in the world, but it was quickly being topped with this moment now. And then he heard George's voice and he smiled.

"Did you move here to be something?" George asked, breaking the silence. Every time he talked Dream's ears just gravitated towards him. British accents were just so appealing to Dream. Well, not all of them, George just had a certain charm. "I did. But it's not working out. I'm just running around eighteen hours a day. Why?" George sunk down in the leather seats, letting his body go flaccid. His eyes looked tired and he seemed exhausted. "I feel like I'm doing all this work for nothing." Dream turned to look at him, but stayed silent. George noticed this and his eyes widened and he straightened up immediately. "Oh God! Never mind, sorry!"

Dream giggled. "No, please. I feel the same way sometimes. This guy I know, he owns the bookstore - he once told me that all books add up to one essential truth. Which is, if your IQ is above a certain number, life is pretty much unbearable. And the number is not even that high." Dream was surprisingly able to hold back the usual grimace that came with remembering his mentor. The memories he had were rather distasteful and he refused to bring the mood down, that was basically impossible with George.

"I do think I'd be happier if I were stupider." George said solemnly, letting his gaze fall slightly.

Dream rolled his eyes at this. "But then the world wouldn't know your poetry-" The second the words left Dream's mouth, he knew he fucked up once again. George looked at him with a face full of confusion. Dream's mouth went dry and his heart went into his throat. 

"How'd you know I write poetry?" George asked, drawing a circle with his nail on his thigh. He didn't stop his eye contact with Dream, though. Dream hoped he didn't see the panic flaring in Dream's eyes because right now he had no idea what to do. George might catch onto something that he shouldn't and Dream would have no idea what to do if that would happen.

He certainly didn't want to find out. "Er, doesn't everyone in New York try their hand at writing?" When George didn't look convinced, he continued. "I mean, I read a lot of poetry." Dream gulped, trying to swallow the lump in his throat. Suddenly the car felt very, very hot.

George raised a brow at what he had said. "Who do you like, then?"

Dream thought for a second. His mind flashed back to when he was inside George's house. The shelf, with all his textbooks and even his favorite poetry books. Thank fuck he had a good memory, otherwise he'd be screwed right about now. "Strand, Sexton, Merril..." He repeated, hoping that was enough to satisfy the other. He was grasping at straws right now, Dream found himself squeezing his hands together tightly as he hoped George would believe him.

Much to his delight, George's face lit up. "You're describing my nightstand!" He squirmed slightly, twirling his fingers in his hands back and forth. A wave of relief washed over Dream as he realized that was once again a lucky save. He needed to be more careful because next time he might not be so lucky. "I usually read poetry late at night because it puts me in a rather relaxed mood. I much more prefer it to action books and such."

Dream leaned forward in the seat, crossing his arms in interest. That seemed to be one of the most genuine reactions Dream had ever seen. "Well, if you read them to get to sleep every night, then you definitely belong here. No doubt you write as well, and you're probably amazing at it." 

George went beet read when he said this, and Dream had a feeling that it's one of the nicest and most genuine compliments he'd gotten in a while. George shifted in his seat again, snuggling into his jacket. He then side eyed Dream and gave him a look the blonde didn't quite understand. "What did you say your name was again?"

"Dream."

He laughed to himself because of this. It was a pretty hard name to forget, but with the booze talking and after the night he'd been through Dream didn't really mind. "Where did you come from, Dream?" The way he said it, with his voice low and interested, it sparked something in Dream. He didn't know what exactly, but he wanted to get to know this side of George. Dream was much more interested in the darker side, the mysterious one that George was afraid to let show on the surface.

George was different. And no, not because he was perfect while everyone else was tolerable, there were so many little details about him that just enticed Dream. He hadn't noticed it before, but George had a light dusting of freckles on his face, starting at his nose and spreading to his cheeks. They were only visible in light, so as they passed streetlights and lamps Dream got a perfect view of them. It was strange. It's one thing to look at pictures and videos, it's a completely different thing to be with him and look into his beautiful eyes. Honestly Dream didn't think this was real. It felt like a mirage. George made him feel so alive. He kept Dream in the moment which was a very hard thing to do.

"I grew up here," Dream started. He gave himself a moment to think. He wanted to plan this out, tell George just enough to keep him interested while simultaneously making sure he doesn't overshare. "I left for a little while. Chasing a boy." Neither of them realized it, but they both were leaning towards each other. George had twisted himself so his legs were pressed against the side of the seat. Dream had turned his body so he was facing the Brit with his head tilted to the side as he talked. Even in the car, Dream loomed over George, so he was looking up at him with interest in his eyes. "I came back because I missed it, and apparently I'm not a good chaser."

"Me neither." George hummed. "I'm not that good with... relationships, I guess." George trailed off and Dream knew not to press him. Slowly, George allowed his body to relax. Before he knew it, George was lying his head on Dream's shoulder. It felt... good. It was relaxing, and to top it all off this meant George trusted him. Beneath the heavy scent of alcohol, Dream was able to smell a soft hint of a vanilla, maybe a tinge of cinnamon. The exact same scents that were in his room from earlier. Dream glanced down at the boy on his shoulder, careful not to move. George looked peaceful, his eyes fluttered shut and lips parted just enough to show his teeth.

Dream shifted in his seat, stretching the seat-belt to max capacity in order to give George a somewhat comfortable angle. George appreciated this, because he scooted over ever so slightly and pressed against Dream's side. He was warm now, the fuzzy sweater doing it's job in protecting him. George's hot breath was tickling Dream's neck, it was soothing. A little shaky, but he was recovering from this night of hectic events. His fluffy brown hair was all over the place in Dream's face but the man could care less. He felt his hand slide over and he brushed the tips of his fingers against his clothed thigh but didn't move his hand up fully.

Looking out of the windows, Dream had a few thoughts going through his head. For one, he forgave George for everything that happened today. For walking in on him in the apartment, for dragging him to that stupid open mic, for almost killing himself... at the time, Dream didn't think he'd ever be able to forgive him. As the day progressed, Dream came to a realization. George was human. Despite his perfect accent and godlike complexion, he was just human under it all. Humans made mistakes. Even Dream did, from time to time. Especially tonight, he just kept slipping up. He'd have to act fast in order to keep his cover under control. Not that he was doing anything illegal, last time he checked it wasn't illegal to observe someone from afar.

He liked George. He was nice. He was cute, and tonight Dream had saved George's life. That was a blessing he was surprised he even got. What were the odds that George stumbled into that subway, at that time, then just happened to fall in while a train was coming? 1 in 7.5 trillion, almost? That's what it felt like. Sure, in the moment Dream had never been more terrified. George could have lost his life and honestly he was surprised George was taking it as well as he did. He felt a twinge of guilt saying that he was actually grateful George had fallen. In the heat of the situation he was ready to jump in and save him and couldn't even believe that was happening. To be fair it was one of the scariest experiences Dream had ever had - he worked at a bookstore, for fucks sake. His life was supposed to be mellow and chill.

And then George had walked in, and turned his world upside down. He was forever in the Brit's debt and he was determined to pay this debt off.

After what seemed to be only five seconds, the driver pulled up to the apartment. Dream wanted to smirk, but he had to keep it to himself. George could not know he'd been here, or things could go wrong very fast. The driver slammed on the breaks a little too hard, this resulted in George slowly blinking awake. He pushed himself up with a small groan, rubbing his eyes with the back of his sweater sleeve. After looked around groggily, his gaze went to Dream. It took him a few seconds. Once he remembered what was happening, he shook himself awake even more. "Oh, this is uh, this is me."

"Mhm, it's not bad." Dream purred, flashing George a sentient smile. To make a show of this he ducked his head slightly in order to look out the window and get a better look. It was the same as always, big and bright with its massive windows that gave a perfect view of the inside that Dream had become very familiar with.

George returned his smile with an even giddier one. He then nervously licked his lips and gave an awkward chuckle. "Thank you for sobering me up. And for... saving my life." His smile faltered at this.

Dream shook his head, flexing his fingers in front of him. "No, I didn't... I didn't save your life." Dream knew he had, but he decided he was going to play the gentle and humble role with George. It fit his personality, and after having friends like Sapnap and Ant, finding someone quiet must be quite the struggle.

"Yeah you did." George said blatantly.

Dream stayed quiet at this. They stared into each others eyes. This time, George wasn't going to puke. This time, it wasn't right after a train had just about killed George. Nobody was around. They were together in a cab, and Dream found himself leaning forward. And god dammit, so was George. Dream's hand reached out and found itself a home on George's thigh. He squeezed it, while George scooted even closer. George's hands ghosted over Dream's, dropping and interlocking their slender fingers together. His touch was electrifying. Their faces were inches apart. George's mouth was open slightly, lips soft and ready. His eyes were needy. Closer. And closer. Until they were millimetres apart, half a second away from locking their lips and forgetting everything that had happened.

That was until a rapping on the window ripped the two away from each other. Dream jumped into the air and his head smacked on the roof of the car. He let out a quiet grunt as George's body twisted to look in the window, where none other than dipshit Punz was standing. When Dream saw him his eyes narrowed and his hands balled into fists. There's no way he just fucked up their moment. Punz was looking into the car expectantly. "Oh god." George mumbled out, reaching forward and rolling down the window. 

_Of course. Punz._ Dream thought sourly, and for once he couldn't hide the disgust that was evident on his face.

When George finished rolling down the window, Punz's eyes scanned him up and down before heading straight to Dream. By the glare in his eyes it was obvious he thought he was scary, but to Dream he was nothing more than an abuser who only used George when he needed to get his rocks off. George looked incredibly uncomfortable in between the two, looking from Punz to Dream frantically before finally forcing himself to speak. He knew what this looked like and judging by the anger and suspicion in Puns's eyes he thought it was that as well. "Um, this is Dream." George stated, gesturing to the freckled blonde sitting adjacent to him. "He literally saved my life tonight. I-I fell on the tracks. It was crazy."

George stumbled over his words as he spoke. Punz gave Dream one last glance, so Dream decided to give him a small wave. Punz sighed, bringing his attention back to George. "Babe, I told you people are basically good. It's a great job bro." He flashed Dream the finger guns and he fought the urge to break his fingers one knuckle at a time. _"Bro" You literal waste of hair._ Dream kept his thoughts to himself, but he wanted to say something so badly. The urge to get out and pound this fucker into the ground until he was a mass of blood and bones was overwhelmingly strong. Punz clapped the side of the cab, drawing him from his thoughts. "Okay, George it's freezing out here. I uh, thank you for your service bro but we should be heading in." With that, he gave a final nod towards Dream and turned towards the apartments.

Dream wanted him gone.

"Wait," Dream started as George extended his arm for the door handle. He didn't hesitate as he turned around to face Dream. He looked happy that Dream was still willing to talk to him. Dream took a deep breath for a second then gave him a comforting smile. "Maybe I can get your info?" Dream asked, already reaching into his pocket for his phone. "Just so we can keep in touch."

George nodded happily. "Yeah!" He started fumbling around with his sweater, patting himself down. After a few seconds he paused, then moved to his jeans. His eyes darkened. George then unbuckled the seat-belt and scooted forward, searching the seats. He stuck his hand into the cushions and felt around, lifted his legs to look on the floor, and even felt around where Dream was sitting. After a few moments of finding nothing, he ground his teeth together and groaned. "Shit.. my phone-" George checked the cushions one more time only to be met with the same results as last time. He then removed his hand and wiped them against his jeans. "I must've dropped it in the subway."

"Oh," Dream looked down. "Well, okay, um... Maybe just give me your number? For when you get a replacement?" He offered. George thought for a second, then shook his head.

"I'm basically enslaved to email." George stated, bringing his hands together and messing with the sleeves. Dream smiled in his mind. _I get it. Smart. I'm practically a stranger. Can't be too careful. You know better than to give your number out to random strangers. It's a good thing we won't be strangers for much longer._ Dream nodded at this, and George gave him a reassuring smile. It also shows commitment, if you're willing to email someone. These days the younger generations are practically enslaved to their phones. Calling and texting consumes them. This would show that he's interested, and wants to pursue something. Something maybe a little more than a friendship. George looked at Dream. "It's uh, GeorgeNotFound@gmail.com."

"Alright." Dream opened his phone and typed it in. He knew there wasn't a chance in hell that he'd forget it, but you can never be too careful. Once he finished he looked back up at George. "George not found."

George laughed at this. "Thank you."

And with that, he pushed the cab door open and stepped outside. He shut it behind him, walking up to Punz and grabbing his hand. Their fingers interlocked just like he had with Dream's on the subway. Just remembering that made his hand tingle. Dream watched him as he pulled Punz into a kiss, sloppy and messy before squeezing his shoulders and walking up with him and disappearing into their apartment. Dream resented Punz. He wanted to be the one walking him into the apartment, giving him goodnight kisses and it's no doubt they were probably going to fuck tonight. Disgusting. _Here's what I learned this week. You are special. You're talented. You're passionate._

Dream spoke with the driver and gave him directions to his own residence. The cab then pulled away from George's apartment and began it's descent to his. He watched George's apartment shrink in the mirror until it was gone from his field of vision. Dream then sat back with a content smile on his face. He reached into his pocket and let his fingers strum against the icy cold object that lay there. He then pulled out a phone. No, not his phone, but George's. _You're smart._ Dream smirked as he ran his fingers along the cold screen. It turned on within a matter of seconds, and much to Dream's delight it unlocked itself. _Except in the ways you're really not. Like, not locking your phone._ His delight was quickly squashed when he saw George's background was a damn picture of Punz. _Falling for men like Punz... you know better, but you can't stop because, well, everyone needs someone._

_What you really need is someone to save you. I can help, George. Let me help you._

He held George's phone tightly in his hands, before moving his head to look out the window. The colorful lights of the city were warm and inviting. Dream was happy. He'd done more tonight then he ever thought he would, and he was so close to kissing George. Seconds away from making his fantasy a reality, but guess who had to come along and ruin that?

Punz. Dream was fed up with him, he always had been.

_It was about time Punz needed to go._


	10. Pilot (Chapter 1 Part 10)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dream helps a kid out then puts his plan into action.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do not share this with any of the content creators mentioned/anyone famous (?) in reality. This is just a story not meant to cause harm towards anyone, and involves online personas not the real creators themselves. If they have any issues I will not hesitate taking this down.

Dream was just a few steps away from his apartment complex. He was tired. He felt exhaustion weigh at his brain and drag his eyelids down. Today was a long day, a very eventful one, and the only thing Dream wanted to do was go home and sleep. He'd dream about the wonderful things that had happened today (and probably the bad things as well). Most importantly he would need to come up with a plan to get Punz out of George's life. That was going to be a struggle. It would be a lot easier if Punz wasn't famous and popular - but of course George had went for the one who owned a company and had a massive status. George just wasn't making his life any easier. Whether they were apart or together something always just went wrong.

It's not like Dream wanted this to be hard. When he first laid eyes on George he hadn't predicted that he'd get so attached. Dream wasn't supposed to be in love anyways. George just... refused to leave his mind. He was a brat. _Not that that's an issue. It was charming how he thought he had power._ Dream's mind kept wandering and he found himself feeling George's hands grasping his shoulders... remembering the way George had held onto him. Then the ride home after, how close they had been to kissing. Dream wanted to lean forward and lock lips. He wanted to feel George against his skin. He wanted to hold George close, grab his sides and squeeze. He'd give anything just to have a few more minutes alone with George. People like him, like George, they weren't the type of people you could just forget. 

Dream had been walking for quite a while now. He was exhausted. After the heart attack today while being inside his apartment, to following him the bar... then train station... George almost dying, Dream couldn't handle this much excitement in one day. It's not like he wasn't grateful for all that happened he was just... tired. You couldn't really blame him. He had a raging headache that was pounding in the back of his skull. His clothes, thankfully, had dried. His hoodie was flush against his skin and Dream snuggled into it with a soft sigh. The soft and plush insides were doing wonders to his arms and he was ready to go home and fall asleep.

On his walk back to his apartment his fingers ghosted George's phone in his pocket. He pulled it out and glanced down at the screen. He didn't want to change the background even though it had Punz on it, but he was interested in another thing. Dream swiped up and fought the urge to gag at the other, instead scrolling and tapping on the photos. Much to his delight a selfie of George came up. He was just sitting at a dinner table, arm exposed at the perfect angle in order to get the right lighting. His white teeth dazzled and sparkled, his brown eyes wide with excitement. Dream's pace slowed as he traced the frame of George's chest with his thumb. He was just so cute. Everything about him made Dream's heart thud.

The thick of his jawline, the way his hair cascaded down the front of his face. The small batch of freckles that were scattered across the bridge of his nose. The way his shoulders rounded out and how his eyebrows furrowed to make him look concerned when in reality he was happy. When George smiles, his eyes squinted automatically. It was beautiful. Everything about George was beautiful. His eyes almost seemed to sparkle as his fingers wrapped around the edge of the table to keep himself centered. Dream could willingly stare at this picture for hours. His attention was quickly pulled from the phone as the tips of his shoes hit the cement stairs that led up to his apartment. He looked up at the dimly lit lamp and stuffed George's phone back in his pocket. He'd investigate more later - for now his only goal was going inside and passing out.

The blonde let out a small sigh as he began to make his way up the stairs. Well, he was about to, when a sudden "Dream-" captured his attention. He turned around, eyes scanning the layout before landing on Fundy. He was standing at the bottom of the stairs, eyes swollen and puffy. There were tracks of tears running down his pale cheeks. His ginger locks were a mess. He looked awful, and was currently shivering from the cold of the night.

"Fundy, hey." Dream said softly, turning around completely to face the small boy and hurrying down the stairs. "What's going on? What are you doing out here?" His voice was laced with concern. He'd never seen the poor boy so upset.

Fundy brought a hand up to swipe at his eyes. "It's Sally," his voice was small and feeble. "She came home drunk. She started yelling. Saying I thought I was smart, reading my books and looking at her like I think she's dumb." Fundy's eyes fell to the floor. His feet were pressed tightly together, and Dream had a feeling Fundy was ready to start crying again. He stepped forward slightly, wondering how he was supposed to deal with this. A sudden fire exploded through Dream and awful thoughts of what Sally could have done started racing through his mind.

"What happened? Did she hurt you?" His voice was strained. Dream could put up with Sally's shit with Wilbur. It was one thing to abuse an adult who could make it stop if he managed to pull himself together, and a completely different thing to abuse their child. He swore if Sally even dared lay a finger on Fundy he was ready to burst down their door and rip her head from her pathetic body with his bare hands.

That wasn't an exaggeration.

Fundy shook his head. "No, she didn't touch me." Fundy opened the side of his striped jacket and reached in. Dream cocked his head in curiosity when he pulled out the book that Dream had given him a couple nights back. Dream grabbed it, flipping it in his hands. It seemed fine at first, but when he opened it the spine was completely torn from the pages. As a bookstore clerk this physically hurt to look at. Dream could tell Fundy felt absolutely miserable about it though, judging by the way his eyes watered more and how tightly he bit his lip. "I tried to stop her. I'm sorry."

"Fundy," Dream's voice was gentle. Fundy was seconds away from bursting into tears. "Fundy it's okay, really. It's okay." He paused for a second, allowing the younger to calm himself down. He looked at the book for a few more seconds then sighed. He was tired, sure, but he had a feeling he wouldn't get much sleep tonight. "You know what? Come with me. We can fix this together, alright?" Dream couldn't believe he had just offered that. This was yet another thing to add onto his already eventful night but couldn't let Fundy down. Fundy didn't answer at first, he simply turned his head in a quick glance up to his apartment. He then turned back to Dream and nodded frantically.

Dream reached out and gave his small shoulder a squeeze. He then sifted through his pocket to grab a napkin and handed it to Fundy. Fundy took it with a nod of appreciation, bringing it to his nose and blowing. He used the sleeve of his jacket to wipe at his eyes again. Dream squeezed his shoulder reassuringly once more. He then spun Fundy around and together they started walking in the direction of his bookstore. He had a feeling if Sally caught them together again she'd lose her shit, so he wanted to do this fast and get it over with. Dream didn't want to deal with Sally's backlash tonight. After all, he still needed to get home and plan how to exterminate Punz.

The walk to Mooney's was relatively quick. Fundy was in a hurry and Dream appreciated this. They unlocked the door and rushed inside, before slipping through the aisles of books and disappearing into the basement. Dream went first of course, flicking on the lights before allowing Fundy to make his descent. The last thing he wanted was Fundy slipping and shattering his bones. The kid was as thin as a toothpick and one wrong bend of the arm and it's over. Dream led Fundy past the cage and towards one of the desks, bending over and tapping the desk light. It turned on and lit up the area around them.

Dream could tell Fundy was still getting used to the basement. It wasn't exactly the most welcoming room and the massive glass box in the middle wasn't doing any favors. As Dream walked with Fundy to his desk, he found his eyes staring at the cage for a little too long. Dream looked at the cage with interest in his eyes. It seemed to be speaking to him almost. Telling him something. Dream gravitated towards it at first, a quick tug to the sleeve from Fundy quickly brought him back to reality. Dream flashed the boy a heartwarming smile, casting a glance back at the cage before turning to face the desk. His hands swept papers and pens aside, gesturing for Fundy to step closer.

"The first step to fixing something is to know no matter how destroyed it seems, it can always be saved." Dream slapped the book down on the desk, turning to face Fundy who had followed closely behind him as Dream had ordered. Fundy was patient but his eyes betrayed the small hints of excitement that he was no doubt feeling. "Books are no exception. You got it?" Fundy nodded. Dream turned back to face the desk, pushing the sleeves of his hoodie up to his elbows. He pointed to an object on the desk. A big metal plate with two thick blocks of wood settled on top. He stepped aside to let Fundy examine it for a few seconds, before giving an explanation.

"So what we have here is a lying press. Basically just a huge clamp." Next to it was a jar of stark white liquid. Dream grabbed it and popped off the lid, handing it to Fundy. Fundy looked down at it and Dream continued. "Polyvinyl-acetate glue. It has no acid, which means it can't burn the pages." Fundy nodded. Dream then pointed to multiple objects scattered along the desk. "Got your needle, thread, and finally, my favorite part..." Dream's hand moved through the papers and pushed them aside. His fingers grasped around a handle and he lifted.

"My trusty mallet." Dream flashed Fundy a grin, who gave out a small giggle. He was watching intently. This clearly was something he was interested in. The lights of the basement bounced off the metal mallet clutched tightly in Dream's hand. "You see this?" He asked, grabbing the book and opening it. Dream grabbed the bulk of the pages, holding them tightly before ripping it from the remaining cover of the book with ease. The pages came off in a clean tear and Dream tossed the cover to the side in order to get a better hold on the pages. Fundy's jaw dropped and his eyes widened. He probably thought Dream had damaged the book even more. Dream laughed at this. "We don't need this." He stripped away the rest of the spine and the cover. Fundy stepped closer. Dream stuck his tongue out, eyes lazer focusing on the remains of the book currently in his hands.

"Scrape carefully along the spine." Dream stated, taking a dull knife and pushing it against the spine. What was left of the cover was scraped away. The blade of the knife was cool to the touch giving off a satisfying feel. "Of course, you've got to watch your fingers." Fundy fiddled with his hands for a split second as if he could feel the knife slicing the tips of his fingers. Dream giggled and messed with the book more, working with the thread and needle. He was fixing up the spine while Fundy made sure to take in every action that he was doing. The needle slipped in and out, breaching the pages with the sharp sound of paper ripping. "Okay, the spine is sewn."

The threads were tightly stuck together. Dream licked his thumb, bringing one of the strings up and gesturing towards Fundy. "Take this, pull it as tightly as you can, that way." He instructed, waiting for the smaller to get a hold of the string. When he finally did, his small fingers were steady and he held on as if his life was on the line. He followed Dream's directions and watched as the string tightened the spine. The pages were now tied together. Fundy looked up expectantly at Dream for approval. Dream nodded, "Just like that." Fundy held the string while Dream reached across the desk and grabbed a small brush. He dipped it into the glue, making sure to get enough onto the brush. Quickly, Dream spread the glue along the spine of the book in a thick and even coat. The glue didn't smell too bad but there was a hint of something that was rather nauseating. 

"The glue is set. We've applied the binder. Now..." Dream slid the book between the two wooden blocks. It stood up, and he bent down slightly. His fingers closed around the base of the mallet. Fundy watched with desperate eyes as Dream brought the mallet up and behind his head. "You gotta be precise. You need to use exactly the force needed, nothing less and nothing more."

And with that, he brought the mallet down on the spine of the book with enough force to make Fundy jump.

//

Punz held the cigarette between his pointer finger and middle finger, watching the thin line of smoke make it's way across the sidewalk. He was lazily slumped against the wall, mind smooth and relaxed as ever. He felt the eyes of everyone as they walked by, casting him looks of disgust and outrage. Every little comment made to children about how smoking is bad and smoking would kill you seemed to merge together in one big blob. Punz could care less about the disease that was currently deteriorating his lungs... he much rather preferred living in the moment. He brought the smoke to his lips once more and inhaled sharply, allowing the blackened smoke to fill his chest. He held it there, just a cloud of tar and nicotine, letting it fester inside him before letting out a prolonged sigh.

He didn't give a damn about other people's opinions. Why should he? He's rich. He owns a company (it might not be doing too well but that's besides the point) and had all the babes in the world. More specifically, men. Punz's blue eyes scanned the busy streets in front of him. There were plenty of fish in the sea. Sure, it's not everyday you find homosexuals but Punz certainly had his ways. He enjoyed spicing things up and hey, if some straight guy wanted to test the waters for a night or two then Punz was more than willing to assist. It was fun. He enjoyed things like that, plus it was good to never stay in one place. The more he moved around the safer he was.

Punz's fingers clasped the cigarette in his hands tighter as yet another family stormed past. This time a mother accompanied by two little girls. They walked past Punz, one of the girls slowing to stop and look up into his no doubt bloodshot eyes. Punz gave her a cigarette stained grin, watching with amusement as the mother's face twisted in horror and she grabber her kids and bolted off. All he could hear was her panicked voice screeching about how he was a monster and good girls shouldn't do drugs. He scoffed at this, furrowing his brow and taking another hit. He was about to get lost in his thoughts when his phone started buzzing in his pocket. He pulled it out with a swift motion, squinting at the screen as he unlocked his phone.

It was hard typing with one hand but when Punz finally clicked on his messages he about choked on his cigarette at what he read. His eyes widened and the cigarette dropped from his fingers. He couldn't believe his eyes. Punz looked up from his phone, then back down, then back up again. He slammed his foot down on the cigarette in a pathetic attempt to put it out before scrambling forward and practically ripping the doors to his company open. They almost came off their hinges as Punz raced up the stairs, head spinning. His chest felt tight from the previous smoke but that was the last thing he cared about at the moment. He almost tripped three times on his way upstairs before he finally made it to his destination.

"PONK!" His voice roared, vocals echoing off of the walls. Punz stormed into the main room of his company, head swiveling around. His eyes narrowed in annoyance as he saw his co-manager sitting on the couch playing some stupid video game. The workers seemed to have gone home for the day which left the other free to do anything he wanted. Punz was kind of pissed that he chose to waste it playing video games but whatever floats your boat. "Listen to this!"

"Dear Punz," the bleached blonde read aloud, diverting his attention to his phone. "I heard about your soda. I am interested in including you on my fall list of must-tries. Would love to discuss. Perhaps even try some? Oliver Pevensey." Punz's voice was practically a high pitched squeal as he read out this message. His excitement was short lived when he looked up and saw Ponk still sitting on the couch and completely ignoring him. He rolled his eyes, walking up to him and slapping the man on the head.

Ponk grunted, shooting a glare at Punz. He paused his game for a split second as if to tell him off, but then he turned back and went on with his game. "Ain't that the dude that you're always retweeting?" Ponk asked, not bothering to give Punz his full focus. Punz wanted to pummel this guy into the ground sometimes. He wasn't the best co-manager but he did make hell of a salesperson so Punz had no choice but to keep him around.

"It's the culture guy from New York Magazine!" Punz said dramatically, adding emphasis onto the words to get through this guy's thick skull. This finally got Ponk's full attention. He dropped his controller, fully shifting his limber body to face his friend. His eyes were wide with excitement and he had a huge, crooked smile plastered all over his face. Punz raised his brow at this, smirking at the look Punz was currently giving him.

"Hit him back bro!" 

Punz slapped the back of his head again, this one resulting in a yelp. "No shit." He whirled around and started to walk across the room, holding his phone tightly in his hands. He wanted to think about how this would play out. He'd have to be careful or he would completely blow this opportunity. _Oliver, so nice to hear from you bud!_ Punz typed, fingers shaking. He really wish he had done a line earlier because it would probably calm him down but he couldn't think about that now. Punz could feel Ponk's eyes on him from behind, watching him like a hawk. _Yeah, our sodas are legit. I would love to meet up to have you try the goods. Let's set something up._

With that, he sent the message and placed his phone on the counter. He then turned back to Ponk, who was still looking at him expectantly. After a few awkward seconds, Punz lifted his hand into the air and hollered. Ponk stood up and cheered as well, and before they knew it their hands had clapped together. "We got it Ponk!" Punz said happily, happiness filling his eyes. "Do you know what this means? We're finally making it to the big leagues."

"That's an understatement." Ponk huffed, slapping his hand on the back of Punz's shoulder, sending the other man stumbling forward. "This calls for a drink." Ponk turned and reached for one of the sodas. Punz watched his shaky movements with amusement, leaning against the counter. Ponk carefully began pouring them each a glass of soda when suddenly Punz's phone began to vibrate. Punz tilted his head. Ponk looked back at him confused. There's no way Oliver had responded... right? Punz looked back down at his phone and sure enough, guess who responded?

"Sounds great." Punz read aloud. "I can call between meetings to see if you're available." Punz looked back to Ponk. The man simply shrugged, looking down at his glass and tossing his head back before downing it in a few seconds. Punz reached forward and grabbed a drink of his own, ignoring Ponk's request to cheer and instead taking a long sip to wet his incredibly dry throat. The fizzy soda burned his gullet enough for him to tear up but Punz quickly pushed the notion aside as Ponk began to speak.

Ponk blinked. "This almost doesn't seem rea. What time do you think we'll meet?"

Punz snorted, this resulting in a fiery blast of soda shooting up his nose. He gagged at this, setting the soda aside and coughing into his sleeve. Punz then glanced at Ponk with a look of... disgust, almost. "No offense, we've discussed this. It's best if the product has one clear face in the beginning. That's just more me." He stood up straighter and smacked Ponk's shoulder. Ponk looked away, clearly wanting to disagree with Punz but knowing deep down he couldn't get across. That's just how Punz works. What he says goes, and it's very hard to protest anything he does. It was rather annoying, and Ponk wanted to be done with it. He couldn't though. Punz rolled his eyes at his butthurt friend.

Leaving an annoyed Ponk to his own devices, Punz stepped away from the counter and began making his descent out of the building. He figured he deserved an award for what he had accomplished today. He clutched his phone in his hands and looked down. Much to his surprise he had received another text. Huh. It was asking if Punz wanted to meet now...? Punz's head looked up and he glanced around. Ponk was distracted enough back in the main office. He knew that if this didn't happen now, Ponk would eventually try to convince him that it was "unfair" that Punz was leading the company and that it's a "two person" job. Punz liked Ponk, sure, but this was an opportunity Punz can't put down. One day Punz would have to drop Ponk but hey - that's just business. 

He typed out a responding message. It was quick, just Punz agreeing. He rushed down the stairs, slipping outside and shutting the door behind him. Punz was met with a nice cool breeze, not too hot, not too cold. He then reached into his pocket and pulled out a cigarette and a lighter. This was always something Punz enjoyed. He definitely deserved it now. There's no better feeling then taking a smoke and letting your worries get washed away. Punz was enlightened when his phone was lit up with another buzz. Oliver was a fast responder. With a slight cock of his head, he unlocked his phone (unlike a certain British man, he had a password) and raised a brow. Oliver had given him an address which was surprisingly close to where he was now.

"Oh yeah." Punz mumbled, texting a quick affirmation and stuffing his phone in his pocket. He brought his cigarette to his lips and breathed. He closed his eyes, allowing the smoke to fill his lungs and with a satisfied sigh, he breathed out. Thankfully he didn't stay long enough for people to give him odd looks because before he knew it, he was strutting off in the direction of the address he was given. It wasn't too far, just a few blocks away. Punz couldn't help but be excited, he was about to meet one of the most popular authors of one of the most popular news articles. It was fantastic.

Punz walked briskly through the town. He made several sharp turns, glancing around with each one. You could never be too cautious. He looked down at his phone and slowed to a walk. He was near the address. Punz didn't quite understand where it was, though. The bleached blonde stopped at a random saloon and looked up. Judging by the numbers he was given, the place he was looking for should be right about... He scanned the area a little more until his eyes landed on a man standing next to an alleyway across the street. He could only assume that was Oliver, and judging by the way the man was looking at his phone it probably was. Punz stuffed his phone in his pocket and hurried across the street, weaving his way through parked cars and small crowds.

Oliver looked up from his phone to see Punz coming. He held his hand in the air, gesturing a polite wave as he jogged forward. There was a warm smile enveloping his face as he waved Punz over. Punz happily obliged. When Punz finally made it across the street and through the hoards of people, he held out his hand to the man in front of him. He looked nice enough. Not quite what Punz had pictured but he looked like and Oliver. "Hey man! Oliver, nice to meet you." Oliver said sweetly as he introduced himself. His voice was light and airy. Oliver stepped forward and grabbed his extended arm, giving in a hearty shake.

"Nice to meet you too! Have you been here before?" Oliver asked. He then pulled his hand away and gestured behind him. There was a long alleyway the seemed to go on for miles. There were tables set up with candles, nice benches, and what Punz assumed was the smell of tacos. "It's a... not a lot of people know about it yet. It's incredibly after hours, very exclusive." As Oliver spoke, he turned around and began walking down the alleyway. Punz followed without hesitating, bringing his smoke that was still lit to his lips and taking another drag.

"I've been here a couple of times." Punz stated simply. Oliver only nodded at this, instead of turning around to speak to Punz he just continued walking. Punz was hit with the strong smell of salsa and tortilla chips. The farther he followed Oliver down the path, the more uneasy he became. Something just didn't feel right. Oliver seemed nice enough, maybe it was just the feeling of being in a creepy alleyway that made him feel queasy. He was probably just overreacting - after all his senses were tripled due to his raw excitement. He couldn't believe that he was with Oliver rightnow... the doors this man could open for their business were life changing.

Oliver looked over his shoulder at Punz who was still following him. "Good. You'll be right at home then." Oliver's sounded happy. In fact, he sounded a little too happy. A sudden feeling of unease washed over him. Something just... didn't feel right. Oliver was being extraordinarily nice but this just, wasn't right. Punz was able to convince himself it was just the cigarettes talking. Deep down he knew he should listen to his gut. The thick feeling of tension and unease only grew as Oliver led Punz past an old, run down patio before stopping directly in front of a staircase that led deep below the ground. Punz stopped next to him and looked down it, feeling panic coil in his stomach like a venomous snake.

Punz looked back to Oliver with uncertain eyes. He felt that if he went down there, he'd never be see again. "Are you uh... sure this is the right place?" Punz poked his head down slightly to get a better view, only to find that the staircase did lead into nothing but a dark abyss. He felt that if he went inside he'd disappear forever. Like some monster was going to reach out, grab a hold on his ill thin wrist and drag him away, never to be heard from again.

Icy cold fingers wrapped themselves around Punz's shoulder. Punz shrieked, jumping back slightly to see Oliver holding onto his shoulder. His piercing eyes seemed to be glaring into Pun's soul, any thoughts of him being nice and polite just vanished. His fingers burned into Punz's flesh like a hot iron. Punz's eyes widened and he felt the hairs of his neck stand up. He was about to make a run for it and scream when Oliver relaxed his grip and gave his shoulder a playful rub. "You don't need to worry about anything, sir! I'm just excited to try your sodas! You see, I have been running out of topics to publish and your company certainly caught my eye."

Oliver's eyes seemed to sparkle as he said this. Punz took a deep breath to try and calm his racing heart. He let out a nervous laugh, eyes glaring as Oliver stepped back and gave him a curt nod in the direction of the stairwell. "Right after you, good sir!" He said cheerfully. Punz shifted uncomfortably on his feet before closing his eyes and inhaling. He was probably freaking out over nothing. He wasn't a pussy, he's not going to let some stranger scare the shit out of him for absolutely no reason. Not only that, but a stranger who could change his life? Of course he couldn't give this up. It was everything, everything to him... everything to Ponk, to his father - he had to do this.

Punz gasped the iron clad railing for dear life as he stepped down the first stair. His heart was starting to pound louder and for a second he was genuinely thinking about turning tail and running. He looked back up at Oliver who had a content smile on his face. Punz mentally slapped himself for thinking like a bitch boy. His nails dug into the sensitive flesh of his palm as he slowly began walking down the stairs. With each step he took he felt as if the darkness was swallowing him up. Sweat dripped from his forehead all the way to the tip of his nose before falling off and landing in the dark. When Punz finally landed on solid ground, he gave out a soft chuckle. He truly was ridiculous for thinking something was going to happen.

"The door on your left." Oliver's voice rang out. It seemed to echo in the night. With a smile, Punz felt his way around before closing his fingers on a grimy knob. He opened the door with ease, pushing it open and stepping into the room. His vision was blinded by fluorescent lights. He squinted, holdings his hands up to allow his eyes a few seconds to react.

What he saw wasn't a pub. It wasn't a diner, it wasn't a mini bar and it damn sure wasn't an exclusive club.

Punz stared at the ginormous glass box in front of him. His heart plummeted to his stomach and his brain was _screaming_ at him to move. _Screaming_ at him to run. The hair on the back of his neck stood straight up as he stumbled backwards. He didn't know what that was but he never wanted to see it again. "Listen, I don't think I'm supposed to be here." He stammered, turning around to make a run for it but it was too late.

The last thing he saw before he blacked out were the piercing green eyes of a man blinded by love.

//

 _It's 2:00 p.m. when the door chimes, and I'm ready._ Dream was now standing behind the checkout desk at Mooney's. His hair was brushed, all of his clothes were washed, and he even made the effort to wipe down the desk and the register to make them squeaky. His eyes were bright with interest and determination. _You told your friends you'd come by. I know this, because I have your phone._ He thought with a sly smirk. As if on cue, the all too familiar bells let out a cheerful rang. George pushed open the door and stepped inside with a book clenched tightly in his hands. He looked around nervously, biting his lip before slowly making his way to the front desk.

Dream noticed he looked especially good today. He clearly had cleaned up from last night. His brown hair was tamed and swooped to the side, he was wearing a simple shirt with jeans and his arm was covered in bracelets. The same ones he had worn on the first day they had met. Dream remembered it like it was yesterday, how could he forget? That was the day his life had been forever changed, and for the better no doubt. Dream couldn't believe the man that wouldn't leave his head was standing in front of him once more. He had a nervous smile on his face, his teeth shimmering in the light. Everything about him was infectious, almost, maybe like a disease... Dream was living for it. 

"Hey," he said softly, drawing Dream's attention from the register. His goal was to not seem too interested. He couldn't slip up again, not after how many times he had almost exposed himself in that taxi ride back to George's apartment. "Remember me? From almost dying on the train tracks?" He asked, drumming his fingers on the cover of his book. His face said he was calm, but his eyes told a different story. George was panicking. Dream didn't like this one bit. George needed to know that around him, he'd be safe. 

Maybe a joke would cheer him up. Dream flashed him a smile. "Hmm... it rings a bell. Hang on..."

George did laughed at this, and that in turn made Dream laugh. There was something contagious about George's laugh. It was bright and happy, it was unbelievably cute. It made everyone in the room light up with joy and in this case it was like music to Dream's ears. When they got together, Dream would make sure he made George laugh all the time. "I wanted to say thank you." George said sheepishly, face flushing a light shade of pink that worked great with his skin tone.

"No, you already did that." Dream shrugged. George smiled at this and sighed.

"Well uh, thanks again. And I'm uh... sorry for running off the other night." George looked down at his feet. Another thing Dream had noticed about George was that he rarely made eye contact. It was endearing, he was once again portraying his shy side. Dream wanted George to be his true self, his happy self around him. George needed to know that he was perfect and that Dream wouldn't change a thing. Dream wouldn't judge him no matter what he did.

"It's fine. You two seemed to be having a good night." Dream lied straight through his teeth.

George scoffed and rolled his eyes. "Hardly..." Dream raised a brow at this. George then shifted on his feet and began to change the subject. "So! I got you a present!" His voice dropped that sinister tone and a smile grew. He looked excited now, practically jumping up and down. George had always been one for giving gifts (usually gifts that he can't afford) 

Yet, Dream shook his head. As much as he wanted this thing from George, he remembered he was going for the nice and humble act. Not that it was an act - Dream was genuinely a nice guy. George should know this. "No, please. You don't have to give me anything."

George rolled his eyes. "Shut up and just take it." He snapped. Dream was surprised at his tone, it was sharp and commanding. George leaned forward, holding out what looked to be a book. With renewed interest Dream decided he might as well. 

Much to his surprise and delight, it was one of Dan Brown's books. A warm feeling blossomed in Dream's chest. From the first day they met, this was how they had bonded. Their first real conversation, and it was taking the piss out of another dude's interests. Dream was surprised George had remembered. He ran his fingers along the paperback cover, then opened it. There was a paragraph scribbled in green ink which Dream immediately recognized as George's penmanship. "Engine, engine, number nine. On the New York transit line. If your guy falls on the tracks, pick him up, pick him up, pick him up." He read aloud. A smirk made it's way onto his face. 

George had fallen on the tracks and Dream didn't hesitate to pick him up.

He'd do it all again for George. He'd risk his life for George.

 _We already have inside jokes, George. If this isn't yet another sign that we're meant to be I don't know how else to convince you._ Dream chuckled at this. George's face was bright with enthusiasm. "So... anyway, that. And I better-" George pointed over his shoulder, gesturing towards the exit of the store. He stepped back, letting his hands fall to his side. Dream shrunk slightly. George was leaving now? He was leaving so soon? He'd only been here for three minutes. This was already more face time than he had any time before that wasn't through a window or across a bar and it felt too soon to let him go.

And then something inside him sparked. An idea. This was Dream's chance. "Maybe... if you're not too busy, we could get a drink sometime?" His voice was low, for once he didn't really know how George would react. For once, it was his heart pounding in his chest. He had never been so nervous when asking a guy out before. This was just so new. It all felt so new, when in reality it was playing over again just like last time. Dream was determined not to fuck this up, though.

Dream shouldn't have worried. "Sure!" George said immediately, maybe a little too immediately because his face flushed darker and he gave Dream a nervous chuckle. Dream returned that with a hefty smile. George's expression then faltered. "I still can't find my phone, though." Inside, Dream was screaming. _Oops. I wonder where that could be. I wouldn't know._

Dream nodded at this. "I know. Email."

With that, their conversation was done. It seemed to have ended before it even began. It was small. Simple, even, but there would be better conversations in the future. George licked his lips, eyes looking Dream up and down as he leaned forward on the desk. He batted his long eyelashes as he looked up at the blonde. His small tongue darted out and licked his lips, wetting them before turning the corners of his mouth into a smile that sent blood rushing to a very certain place. "See you later, Dream." He purred, giving the blonde a wink and pushing himself up to his full height.

Dream stared at him, dumbfounded. The brunette giggled at this. "See you soon, George." Dream managed to sputter out, voice quieter than he wanted it to be. George smiled at him, before pushing himself off the desk and turning around. He cast one last glance at Dream, smile not once falling. Dream watched him for as long as he could, his eyes may or may not have fallen slightly to get a good glimpse of what George had underneath those skintight jeans. Dream watched him push his way through a small crowd of people at the front and then disappear around a corner, heading off to who knows where. Dream's eyes followed with a longing sigh. 

His moment was quickly ruined by a harsh slap on his shoulder. "Well played sir!" Fruit said cheerfully, adding a snicker to his words. "Well played!" 

Dream didn't know how long his friend had been watching, hell he didn't even know he was here today, but frankly he didn't care. Dream had another problem to worry about other than his love life. This was such a bigger problem. Dream brought his hands to his temples and he gave them a rub for good measure. _I'm not always right. I'm human. I make mistakes. You'll see._ Dream whirled around to face Fruit. He was still staring up at him with wide, doe eyes. Fruit had always been innocent. He put others needs before his (most of the time at least) and Dream really respected him.

"I have to check on a shipment downstairs." Dream started, grabbing George's book and bringing it to his chest. "Can you watch the register for me?" Fruit nodded. Dream thanked him quickly. He then turned and made his way to the back of the bookstore, unlocking the basement door and swinging it shut behind him. He hurried down the stairs, turning on the lights and allowing his eyes a few seconds to adjust. _Hell, maybe I'm just a fool in love, but I'm right about you. I'm going to help you get the life you deserve, George._

Dream walked deeper into the room. When he had flicked on the lights, it had awoken Punz from his slumber. _Good morning, sleeping beauty._ Dream thought sourly as the boy stumbled to his feet. He looked around with wide eyes, chest heaving up and down as he gasped for air. He seemed to be having a panic attack. On his forehead was a bleeding gash, blood seeping down his cheek and drying into a crust on his neck. Dream swore he could see part of Punz's skull through the thin flap of skin which was mangled and pressed skintight onto the bone. Lying on the table to the right of Dream lay the very mallet that Dream had used to bash his head in. Punz stepped forward, pressing one of his bloody hands onto the wall of the cage.

"Please," he whimpered, voice shaking. It matched his body which was trembling so much with fear it looked like he was about to have a heart attack. "Whatever you think I did, you have the wrong guy." He was desperate. Usually Dream would feel sorry for anybody in this situation but considering he was the one who put Punz here he couldn't care less.

Dream grinned. His green eyes flashed with something dangerous. He brought his arms to his chest, and he stepped forward. 

"No. I actually don't."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the end of "chapter one" because it's really the end of the episode but shh. I apologize for the inconsistent posting but I'm working on it. I put a lot of effort into this part because I wanted to make it a good finale. The next part for the new chapter should be up very soon and I appreciate all the support <3


	11. The Last Nice Guy In New York (Chapter 2 Part 1)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dream is left to deal with the consequences of his actions while simultaneously preparing for his big day with George.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This work is purely fictional and is no way intended to reflect on the real content creators. It is solely based on their online personas and just a harmless fic made for the entertainment of others. If it is requested to be taken down then I won't hesitate to. With that said, I hope you enjoy.

Dream stared up at the ceiling of his apartment with a goofy smile on his face. He was lying in his bed, wearing nothing but boxers and he couldn't help but be excited. _Tonight's the night, George._ He thought smugly. This has been what he's been waiting for, at least for the past few weeks. _Our first date._ After asking George for drinks last time they had spoken, Dream hardly had been able to sleep. He was too excited. This is it. It's the moment, the one thing he's wanted. Alone time with George. It was just the morning right now and Dream found himself questioning if it could get any better.

The past few days had Dream questioning if all this trouble was worth it. He feared that in the end he wouldn't end up with George. That one day, George would just forget about him. Or he'd move on, or even worse, he'd catch wind of what Dream was doing. It's not like Dream was doing anything illegal. He just liked to observe George, he never went too far. He guessed the most illegal thing he had done was enter George's home without his permission but hey, that was mediocre compared to other offenses people have made. Dream had no reason to be in trouble. Everything he was doing was completely legal and not against any guidelines. If George happened to find out about Dream's doings, Dream would need to make sure that George knew he wasn't doing anything bad.

 _It just feels right. Right?_ He turned his head. His eyes landed on the book that George had gifted him at the bookstore. He had already read it six times and was half way through his seventh, each time he restarted it he just felt a buzz in his heart that was irreplaceable. His smile widening, Dream swung his legs over the side of his bed and pushed himself to his feet. He had to get ready for today, he already had his outfit planned out and everything. Dream clicked his heels together as he hopped to his bathroom, heart feeling lighter than ever. _I'm looking forward to it. And I think, obvious hangover aside, you are too. But... I've read people wrong in the past._

Dream did his business rather quickly, tossing his used boxers aside and hurrying to his closet. He pulled out these faded black high-waisted jeans and hiked them up his legs. Once that was done he grabbed a sleeveless shirt/vest thing that was hanging snugly in the back and slipped it over his shoulders. He liked wearing this vest because it showed his freckles and let's be honest, everyone likes freckles. _One day, I'll tell you about him. Every red flag I was blind to, how destroyed I was._ After slipping on a pair of socks, he ran through his kitchen and slid. He rushed into the bathroom, quickly fixing his dazzling blonde hair, then grabbing a toothbrush and slamming it down his throat.

He did a little spin, winking at himself in the mirror. Confidence was radiating off of him in waves. Could you blame him? He was about to go on a date with his favorite person in the entire world. Dream spat out his toothpaste and rinsed off his brush, then he ran out of the bathroom and spun around again. He danced, shimmying his shoulders and throwing his head back and forth. Dream smirked, grabbing his coffee and downing it in a few seconds before tossing the cup in the sink. He rolled his hips in rhythm to the beat in his head, twirling on his toes once more as he clapped his hands together. With a flick of his wrist, he grabbed his hoodie and tied it around his waist. 

Dream danced around his apartment for a few minutes, just getting into the vibe. Once he decided it was time to calm down, he grabbed the doorknob and swung to door open. He shut it behind him and locked it, bolting down the stairs at record speeds. He figured since it's the big day that there's no harm in seeing George early. Without his knowing, of course, but this was fine. He had the route to George's memorized by now. Why would he not? He practically visited it every hour. It made Dream happy. Just checking up on him. Making sure he was okay. George wasn't a baby and he can handle himself, but that didn't mean Dream couldn't protect him.

He arrived at George's place rather quickly. He was at his tree in a matter of seconds, ducking behind it with a satisfied smirk. He then slid out from the tree, pressing his back against it and glancing at his phone. He couldn't just blatantly stare at him with people around - that wouldn't look quite nice. _What can I say? We all have baggage. But I feel like I'm dealing with it the right way. I'm not bother you, just checking in._ Dream watched as George made his way into the living room. Unlike Dream, he had woken up rather late and was starting his day rather slow. He grabbed the shirt nearest him and lifted it above his head.

 _Hanging with you like this, admittedly, honing skills I never knew I'd need. But hey! Handy!_ George was currently standing in front of his vanity. Much like he always does. He looked tired. Dream felt uncomfortable all of a sudden. Maybe that's how George looked in the morning. Dream gave him props though. After the shit of a night he had yesterday it made sense. George deserved to be cut some slack. George looked down, his face looked crestfallen. Dream could see from his vantage point that he was sticking his finger through the bottom of his shirt. _You can't afford new clothes, but let's be real, you'd look perfect in a potato sack._

George sighed from where he was standing. He then brought his hands back and tucked his shirt into his pants. It was quite a gay look, but it's fine. Considering George was gay. _Not a criticism, God knows I am too, but you seem distracted._ George then turned and hopped onto his couch. He sat his computer on one side then hastily opened a box. Dream watched as he pulled out a brand new Iphone. Dream chuckled at this. _Of course. A new phone. Not sure how you went twenty four hours without one._ George set his phone aside for a few seconds and typed into his computer. He was biting his bottom lip intently as he figured out what to do.

 _As you activate your new friend there, I know you think you're also deactivating your old one._ Dream reached into one of the pockets of his vest and pulled out George's other phone. He turned it on and glanced back up at George. _Here's where you're wrong. Your old phone, which I have, is still logged into the cloud._ Dream watched as George did a small cheer when he activated his new phone. To Dream's delight, the one he currently had lit up as all of his contacts flooded in. The phone was basically an exact copy of the one George was currently holding. _That means I'm still logged into you._

 _Sci-Fi movies are so wrong. Technology is our friend._ After a few minutes of George setting up his phone (hopefully personalizing it more) he stood up. He grabbed a blue hoodie and slipped it on. This was had what looked to be the supreme logo in the middle, but the white text read '404'. Dream cocked his head. George certainly loved the color blue, but what did those numbers have to do with him? It was one of those customizable hoodies so he wanted to know what it meant. After a few more seconds he burst out of the apartment and skipped down the steps.

George was holding his phone to his ear and listening intently. 'You've reached Punz! Leave some love. Namaste.' his voicemail rang. George rolled his eyes at this, shifting his phone to the other hand. His backpack was held up by his shoulders and he looked rather uncomfortable. "Hey. Look, you haven't texted back. Just let me know you're okay, okay? That's all I ask. This is really annoying, Punz." George said into the phone. His voice was filled with concern. Dream watched as George took off in the direction of his university. Dream narrowed his eyes. _It is annoying._

 _You're not thinking about us. You're thinking about him. I kind of thought I took care of that for you, George._ Dream was... less than happy as he began following George. He didn't want that to get his spirits down, though. He was still going on a date with George later and he was looking forward to it. It would probably be the highlight of his life. Just him and George, alone and together. 

George's fingers gripped his books way too tightly. His knuckles were white as he felt his professor's nails digging into his shoulder. "Wanna start of class this morning?" She purred, words dripping with enthusiasm. She always lowered her voice when she was with George. He hated it. Hated it more than anything. It's like she was trying to make him feel inferior. He gets it, he's small and he's easy to dominate but she's the last person he wanted a firm touch from and a harsh tone when spoken to. He simply nodded in response and she squeezed harder. "Good! My last TA was like a little mouse, afraid of public speaking."

"It's my job." George said through clenched teeth and a halfhearted smile.

She beamed at this. "Well, lucky us, you're good at it." As they headed to their classroom, she let her hand fall. George wanted to scream out in joy because of this. That was, until she opened her mouth again. "So, we're still on for tomorrow? Drinks? Poetry?"

George nodded, biting his lip as he was led into the classroom. This was going to be a very, very long day. 

Dream figured George needed his space. After the interaction he has just had with his teacher, he didn't want to watch George be sulky all day. It's a shame. That professor was a nightmare to be around and she was so forward with her touches it was painful. What made matters worse is George just... let it happen. One day she was going to go too far and he'd need help getting out of it. Dream would be ready to help him the first second he needed. He was then reminded of the certain situation in his basement and figured he should go and confront him.

So now Dream was at Mooney's. He pushed his way in, being pleasantly surprised that Fruit was already there and working on books. When he heard Dream walk in, he stood up and waved. The energy of this man... it was electrifying. He ran up to Dream the second he stepped in and shoved a book into his chest. Dream grabbed it and looked at it, then raised his brow at his coworker. "They came for the big day! Want me to move them down to the basement?"

"No!" Dream snapped, shoving the book back into Fruit's chest. Fruit stumbled back with his eyes wide at the sudden tone. Dream noticed what he did and flashed Fruit and apologetic grin. "No, I'll do that. Just get started on the window display."

Fruit nodded, twirling the book in his hands. Dream gave him a hefty pat on his shoulder, stidestepping him and making his way towards the basement. He was about to pass the register when Fruit hurried up to walk next to him. "Hey, I was thinking about making cookies for the release day! Amanda Chantal Bacon has a dope recipe in _Moon Juice Cookbook: Cook Cosmically for Body, Beauty, and Conciseness._ " He was talking so fast and the amount of energy in his words was clawing at Dream's brain.

 _Kill me._ "Sounds great Fruit." He mumbled, turning and cracking his knuckles. 

Fruit paused, then reached forward as if he needed to say something. "Oh! That, uh, that kid is back." Dream paused, looking over his shoulder at Fruit. Fruit blinked. "I think it was Fundip or something?"

Dream rolled his eyes. He simply waved to Fruit and dismiss him. Fruit hurried off in an awkward shuffle. God bless that kid. He was so awkward he'd lose his head if it wasn't attached to his head. Dream then turned and began heading up the stairs. He remembered telling Fundy a long time ago that the second level was one of the best to stay and relax. Dream wasn't surprised when he saw the small boy bent over on one of the pillows that were scattered about the floor. He didn't even notice Dream as he got closer. "Hey speed reader."

Fundy looked up and flashed Dream a smile. "Hey Dream!"

"What're you reading?" Dream asked, walking up to him and looking down. 

"This book about werewolves," Fundy started, looking down at the book once again. A weird look crossed over his face. "the girls in my class wouldn't stop talking about it. It's more about love stuff than it is romance." Fundy closed the book. Clearly he wasn't one for romance, and who could blame him? With his current living situation, he probably thought romance was scuffed and not worth your time. 

Dream looked at him for a few seconds, then looked at the shelves. "There's..." he paused, running his fingers along the plethora of books. "It should be right up here..." When Dream found it, he grabbed it and tapped the cover. "Right here! Try this!" He handed it to Fundy. The young boy took it and held it closely, then turned it in his hands to inspect it.

"Frankenstein?" Fundy read aloud, glancing at the spine of the book.

Dream laughed. "Yeah. The monster is really cool and scary, but also... not really the monster." Fundy looked up at him. He didn't look sold, and Dream grinned. "Just read it, you can tell me. Fruit's got snacks, go and hit him up. He's apparently a really good... baker?" Fundy giggled at this. Giving him a pat on the head, Dream stood up and made his way back down the stairs. He wasn't exactly excited for his meeting with Punz. The guy was just an energy sucker and for fucks sake he never shut up. It's amazing what fear does to a man and what they are wiling to do to get out of scary situations. He had Punz dangling on a string and sooner or later he'd have to cut it.

Making sure nobody was around, he unlocked the basement and slid inside. He made sure to lock it behind him. Nobody was getting in or out of here unless it was him. Dream turned on the lights and hurried down the stairs, turning left to see Punz lying on his back. When the lights turned on fully he jumped, arms going to cover his eyes. He didn't look so good. His skin was an ashy gray color and the wound on his head was drying to the point where it turned brown. Dream didn't know anything about gashes but he assumed the blood would clot or some shit.

Punz pushed himself to his feet. His eyes scanned the room and when he saw Dream, his eyes narrowed. Dream stood in front of the cage. Punz stalked forward. There were goosebumps all over his arms and it was clear he was cold. At first Dream thought he was going to break down into tears. What he did was quite the opposite, however.

Punz walked forward and slammed his fist into the glass door. Dream jumped slightly and stepped back in surprise. "Let me the HELL out of here!" He shouted, voice cracking from the raw rage that was fueling him. Another punch, this one so hard a splatter of blood smeared against the wall. "NOW!" As if that would make Dream change his mind. Dream clicked his tongue, bringing his arms to his chest and rolling his eyes.

"Settle down Punz. Let's talk." Dream's voice was soothing and smooth. Punz stared at him for a solid thirty seconds and right as Dream thought he would, the man _lost_ his _shit._ He started throwing himself against the wall, screaming and screaming and screaming. He slammed his shoulder into the glass door. Dream smirked as it didn't budge. Punz was losing his mind. Dream had never seen someone go to feral. He was practically frothing at the mouth. The good thing is nobody could hear him. The glass was soundproof, rendering his screams useless. Dream found it rather funny, actually. The man was going to blow out his vocal cords and break every bone in his body before he even dented the thing.

 _Okay. Granted, I didn't think too far ahead when I swung that mallet._ Dream was holding his phone in his hands. He wouldn't get nowhere watching Punz have a breakdown. He was scrolling through Punz's distasteful Instagram. He might as well try and dig up some information on him, more than he already had - if that was even possible. _I just knew Punz was the worst kind of poison. The kind you know is bad but can't stop taking. I did what I did to help you George. And now there is a human male in the basement of his bookstore._

Punz's constant screams were really starting to nag at him. His face was flushed an angry red as the veins popped out of his neck. "The entire thing is soundproof!" Dream said loudly, hoping to break through to Punz's fragile mind. "The owner loved to read in peace down here. I'm sorry."

The other's head snapped to Dream. His heart was racing and he rubbed his hands together in an effort to calm himself down. He walked up to the wall of the cage that Dream was currently hiding behind and he met his eyes. "I told you, I don't know who you are. I don't know why I'm here. I swear." He sounded defeated. It was kind of pathetic, really. _Confession: I have no idea what to do with him now. I didn't plan this far ahead._ Punz seemed to be staring into Dream's soul. "I'm gonna give you my family lawyers number. He'll get you paid. You know who my father is?"

Dream rolled his eyes. "The famous owner of one of the biggest financial companies in the city. Trust me, I know."

"We have a jet! We'll send you anywhere in the world!" Punz was really grasping at straws now. Dream groaned. He then walked forward, putting his hands in his pockets. _Best case, that's somewhere far away from you, George. Worst case, that ends in prison time. Not an option._ Dream wrapped his fingers around a small notch in the box. He set a small brown bag in it, then shut the hatch. Punz looked from Dream to the smaller box, then opened it and reached in.

Punz glanced at Dream as he furiously began unwrapping it. Dream had a content smile on his face at this. "It's a poppy seed bagel. With extra schmear."

His eyes narrowed and he glared at Dream. "Go to hell. I don't eat gluten." Dream simply stared at him with a blank expression, but had a brow raise. This clearly rubbed Punz the wrong way because he immediately became defensive. "It's an allergy, okay? That shit is real. Gluten, dairy, if I ate a peanut I could die." He sounded incredibly serious. Dream snorted.

"Oh, well, gosh - whatever can I get you?" Dream's voice was dripping with sarcasm. 

Punz sighed. "Just, like, a bare burger wrapped in chard? Or, I could do sushi?" He offered. Dream stared at him in disbelief. "My diet is limited! Please?" After getting no reaction from Dream, Punz went to rub his eyes. He winced when his hand brushed against his very open head wound. That would need to be checked out eventually but Dream figured that as long as he wasn't straight up dying he'd be fine. Punz then crossed his arms and looked Dream up and down. "Whoever you are, you're not a killer." _Oh how I wish I was. This'd be much less complicated._ "Let me out of here. I won't say anything."

 _He doesn't even know my name. I can figure this out._ Punz walked forward, pressing the palms of his hands up against the glass. Dream noticed he was trembling, but this time Dream didn't think it was out of fear. "I'm claustrophobic. My blood sugar's low."

Dream sighed. He fumbled around in his pockets for a few seconds, then pulled out a small bag. Punz's eyes widened and Dream swore he started drooling. Dream smirked at this, holding the little bag and dangling it in front of him like bait. Punz pressed against the glass even more as Dream smoothed the drugs between his fingers. "Is this the sugar? I found it in your wallet, along with three bars of Xanax, Adderall, half a sheet of... acid? I think it was."

"Whatever," Punz said immediately. "It's not even for me. I network. I own a business."

Dream nodded. "That's right. Home Soda?"

"It's artisanal. It's gonna blow up."

Dream laughed aloud at this. Punz sounded like he was actually believing it. It was painful, almost. He was actually trying to make a business out of this, it would be a shame that it were failing if he wasn't such a piece of shit. "Is it? Do your investors know you do heroin? Or uh, your father? How about your boyfriend?" Dream cringed at this. He was doing this for George, but at the same time he couldn't help but question what the hell he'd gotten himself into.

Punz looked confused. "I don't have a boyfriend." Dream glared at this. Punz stared at Dream a little more, suddenly his eyes widened. He pointed to Dream, then brought his hands to the side of his head. "Oh shit! That's where I know you from!" Dream's heart fucking dropped to his stomach. He stayed silent, watching as Punz's face lit up. "You were in the cab! George's cab! He uh... he said your name was... Devon?" Punz snapped his fingers and shook his head. "No... it was much more bizarre." Another few seconds, then his head snapped up. "Dream! It's Dream!"

Dream froze. _Now, that's a complication._

"Do not tell me you're doing this because of George," Punz started, stepping back from the wall of the cage. His eyes were wide with disbelief. He looked delusional. "He's not my boyfriend. You can have him! You can take him!"

"Careful Punz. You're not winning any points." Dream said through gritted teeth. If he wasn't in deep shit then, he definitely is now. Why did George have to introduce him? he hand singlehandedly fucked up the entire chance of him getting out of this alive. What was Dream supposed to do?

Punz stepped back again, straight up lauging. "If you knew him, you would not be putting me in a cage and ruining your life over GEORGE GODDAMN DAVIDSON!" He roared, taking both of his fists and slamming them onto the glass. Dream didn't flinch this time, instead he walked forward. He put his hands behind his back and stepped up to the glass, meeting Punz's savage eyes.

"If you want out, you'll do what I want."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to the second chapter of the story :) This was a lot of fun to write and I really hope you all enjoyed <3 Thank you for all the support. I'm currently working on another story as well so you can look forward to that in the near future.


	12. The Last Nice Guy In New York (Chapter 2 Part 2)

_The days of being with a man who doesn't value you, those are over._ Dream was currently sitting in his apartment, sipping a cup of coffee. His mind was racing. He was panicking, to say the least, because for once he didn't have a plan. Dream knew he had fucked up. This time he wasn't sure what to do next. He was excited for his date with George, ecstatic, even. The pressure of having Punz locked away in his basement was a major issue. Dream had locked up the basement extra tight and there was no way Punz could escape, but that didn't mean he wouldn't cause any more issues. Dream was far from being in the clear. _George finally can have someone to turn to, if they can get over this first date and have everything run smoothly._

Dream still couldn't believe that he had gone through with it. If he hadn't done anything illegal before, this clearly was overstepping. He had a man locked in the basement of his very public store. Fruit had the keys, to make matters worse, and he could go down into the basement whenever he pleased. Dream had tried time and time again to tell him the basement is off limits but there's no telling what his eccentric friend would do. Dream didn't know what he'd have to do with Fruit if he found out about Punz... even though Fruit could be an annoying pain in the ass, Dream couldn't bring himself to hurt his friend, right? Fruit was a sweetheart. He always showed up to work early, he wasn't afraid to take over and he was nice to talk to. Dream wouldn't... he _couldn't_ hurt him.

But at the same time, Dream would let nothing get in the way of him and George. Punz had tried, and now he was locked away and had no chance of getting free. George... George Davidson, everything about him made Dream squirm. He was just so cute, so sweet... so innocent. Dream wanted to preserve that innocence for as long as he could, but in order to do that he needed alone time with the other. That was becoming increasingly hard. Punz, Sapnap, Bad, Ant - all these people were just there. In his life. Dream might be able to get rid of Punz despite his situation but Sapnap? George lived for Sapnap. George was obsessed with Sapnap. It pissed Dream off. Sure, the man was rich. Sure, he had skin smoother than the ocean sands and sure, his blue eyes sparkled like sapphires in a museum but... Dream was better. He was better in so many ways, George needed to _see_ this.

 _Sapnap's eyes may be bluer than sapphires, but Dream's were brighter than emeralds._ Dream's shoulders tensed as he set his coffee on his desk, fingers curling around the handle in a deadly grip. _Punz's blonde hair may be bleached and stark white, but Dream's was a soft golden that swam with warm undertones._ Dream was a better friend than Sapnap would ever be, and he'd be a better boyfriend then Punz ever was. Dream felt the bitter taste of his coffee turn sour in the back of his mouth and he shivered. He glanced at the window that looked over the city, heart aching as he saw couples walk by. Hands in hand, occasionally passing a kiss... Dream stood up from his wooden chair and walked up to it. He pressed his fingers against the cool glass, glancing down at what he saw.

A sudden wave of annoyance washed over him, strong enough to make him dizzy. George was stupid. Well, maybe not stupid, but he was so incredibly dense it was painful. Judging by George's past, the only reason he realized that Punz was a shitbag was because he was caught red handed getting a blowjob. Dream's eyes narrowed against the glare of the sun, bringing his hands down to his hips. He yearned to be one of the couples down there, holding hands with George while walking down the square. He knew George was the type of person to point at everything in the windows and beg for it. Dream liked it when he begged. His voice dropped into a whine and his lip flipped into a pout. Dream knew that whenever George did that, he wouldn't be able to resist. Dream was fine with that. 

A flash of blue caught the corner of his eye. His head swung in that direction, heart only sinking when he realized it was some random stranger. Blue. It had a whole new meaning to Dream now. If it was blue, it was George. That doesn't make a lot of sense because _Dream_ doesn't make a lot of sense. Dream had promised himself to not let this happen again, he couldn't bare it but for fucks sake he couldn't get George out of his head. Everything blue was George. The numbers 404... whatever those meant, those were George. Hell even anyone with the hint of an accent was George. He just couldn't get the Brit out of his mind.

_He thought about him so much, "George" was starting to become a foreign word._

Dream was torn from his thoughts when his pocket exploded into vibrations. He reached into the pocket of his vest, feeling around before pulling out his phone. Well, not his phone, it was George's old phone. Dream stared at it with a blank expression when he read the text. George had texted his friend group saying "Can't help it, worried about Punz." He rolled his eyes. _You should't be worried about Punz. He's out of the picture, you're finally free._ A text from Sapnap for once managed to put him at a very light ease. "Please. He's off getting shitfaced." George responded with a quick "Or he's in some kind of trouble." Dream groaned loudly at this. _What we have right now is just a little spark. Every choice is a message. With my ex, I always felt like I was pushing. But now, I realize that I can't force it._ Dream picked up his own phone and opened his email.

He typed in George's email rather quickly, and then a very respectful message. "Hey. We still on for tonight?" 

He wanted to distract George. He wanted to make him forget about Punz and instead, think about him.

_The timing. The spark. So you tell me if you're too invested, George. You decide._

George stared at his computer screen with a blank expression. His mind was racing with a million thoughts. He was worried about Punz. Deeply worried. Ponk had told him that Punz left to go meet someone and just... never returned. That wasn't like him. Especially when it comes to their business, when it comes to Ponk, Punz just doesn't... disappear. It was putting him on edge. George was trying to write, trying to catch up on his pages but his mind was everywhere but his work. He was struggling, to say the least. He kept telling himself that it's ridiculous to get so worried about him but George was a caring and compassionate person. He brought his thumb to his lip and parted them, using his teeth to gently gnaw at his nail. His brow furrowed in slight concern as he brought his left hand forward to ghost across the keys.

Should he file a missing persons report? It hadn't been that long since Punz had gone missing but it had been long enough. He couldn't help but wonder where he was. Punz may be a shitface but he almost always answered George's calls. George only called when it was important and the fact that Punz wasn't answering his calls was starting to put him on edge. George's tongue flicked against his nail as he nervously tore at the skin. He knew biting his thumb was a nervous habit and he knew he should work on it but right now? That was the least of his worries. George nervously glanced at the clock hanging on the wall, watching the hands move as every second passed on.

A sudden ding quickly caught his attention. He glanced down at his phone, seeing a knew notification. George tossed his computer aside with haste and practically dove for his phone, kicking his feet out and looking down. It was an email from... DreamWasTaken@gmail.com? For a split second George was confused, but then it hit him. A wide smile formed on George's face and his worried vanished. Not only had Dream remembered his email, but he actually put effort into contacting George. At first he was nervous to give his information but Dream was starting to prove him wrong as the days came. George quickly typed out his response. "Sure. Looking forward. Free at 6." 

When Dream received this, the smile on his face was that of a starcrossed lover.

Now Dream just had to get prepared for the date itself.

//

"So it was just one of those cheesy diaries with a lock, but I just... couldn't stop writing." George's voice was smooth and calm as he spoke, light with interest. They were walking next to each other down the streets of New York, and more often than not Dream had found himself just listening to George ramble. It was a pleasure, really. When talking about his writing he was incredibly enthusiastic and in the moment. It shouldn't be a surprise, considering that's his career, but just hearing George talk about what he enjoyed made Dream's heart race and his mind fuzzy. "I just, I felt better having it all down on paper, you know? And then I did this little creative writing assignment and it just blew my teacher's mind! She acted like it was the best thing she'd ever read..."

Dream let him talk. His eyes stayed on him at all times, watching his movements. The way his lips moved when he spoke. The way his eyes brightened, how his hands moved around since he was a very animated person - everything about him was just perfect. George's words became a blur as Dream's world spun around him. George was the center of his world, he didn't need anything else. _Honestly, part of me thought this date would never come, and now it's just so easy. Feels so right. This is how our story goes, George._ Dream felt like he was in a different plane of existence. George was like a drug, and Dream wasn't ashamed to say he was addicted. 

People walked by the two of them as if nothing was out of the ordinary. Dream's mind spun back to him looking out the window of his apartment, looking down at the crowds and wishing he was amongst them, side by side with George. And sure enough? That's what they were doing now. Walking side by side, close enough for their arms to brush up against each other occasionally. George rambling on about his life, talking to Dream as if this was normal. _It could be normal, George. This could be our normal. I mean, look at you._ Dream's green eyes scanned the boy up and down, an electric spark shooting through his nerves. The bight smile on his face told the world wonders. _You're happy. Talking to me, you'e happy. You deserve to be happy all of the time. You can be, and you will be once I finally make you mine._

"And here I am." George finished, rubbing his hands together and bringing his eyes up to meet Dream's. His heart thrummed in his chest - he couldn't help it. "Sometimes you just... you do things on instinct, because you have to. And then you scramble, you know?" Dream nodded at him, but he couldn't find any words. Dream knew deep down that he wouldn't be here if he hadn't acted on instinct. Everything he'd done to get up to this point left him with no regrets. Yet, looking at him now, nothing he could say would be able to match with him. Nothing he could do seemed good enough, at least not yet. It would be soon... Dream hated taking things slow. He wanted to make George his and he wanted it now. The Brit bit his lip as he looked up at Dream. "I totally didn't google you, but if I did, I might discover you aren't on social media?"

 _Fact: It renders you insanely vulnerable with zero upside._ "I'm an old fashioned guy. I much rather prefer real life." Dream stated, giving George a very happy grin. He technically wasn't lying. Of course he wouldn't have social media - after everything he's done to George (and his ex) why would he? The second his life had crash and burned the first time he deleted everything. It was fine, though.

This clearly didn't satisfy George. "What about your job?"

"Bookstore manager or international super spy?" Dream said with a goofy smirk. George rolled his eyes and playfully punched Dream's shoulder. It was the most pathetic punch he'd ever felt but it was cute, so that made up for it.

"I mean, is that your goal? Or...?" George pressed on. Dream didn't blame him, he's out here knowing every single detail about George while George knows basically jack shit about him. He might as well give him some information, after all they're going to be together forever so what's the harm?

Dream gave himself a few moments to think, before rolling his shoulders in a relaxed shrug. "I know I'm in a city full of people with big, fat, neon-sign aspirations, and I know it's not cool to say and I know it's not big and flashy... but I love books." Dream looked down at the ground. He was begging that hopefully George didn't see him as boring. Compared to Sapnap and Punz, Dream wasn't anywhere near as active as they were. He didn't go out to parties and he didn't waste his money on outfits and stupid accessories he'd never wear in the future. "I want my life to be about what I actually love."

George nodded and gave a small giggle. "Yeah. I get that." Dream looked up. They locked eyes once more, but this time Dream felt the world lag. Everything seemed to be in slow motion as they walked in sync, brown eyes on green. George had a light flush of pink on his cheeks. It was cute, his eyes were filled with curiosity and interest. They were walking so close to each other their arms were brushing. Every touch was electrifying. George made his head fuzzy. The two of them were making their way to a restaurant Dream currently forgot the name of. This is where he planned on getting closer. Dream was ecstatic. If he was this happy just walking with George, imagine how amazing it'd be when they were getting drinks and were even closer.

Dream was about to ask George a question when suddenly they both heard vibrating. George turned and looked down, reaching into his pocket and pulling out his new phone. His squinted against the glare of the sun at the cover, then looked up at Dream apologetically. "Uh, sorry, it'll be just a second." George flashed him a halfhearted smile, then sped up a little and putting his phone to his ear. Dream's frown grew and he crossed his arms, watching as George began speaking to whoever had the audacity to interrupt their date. "Hey." A pause, and then he continued with a nervous chuckle. "Yeah, I know it's serious Sapnap. I'm the one who told you I was worried."

Of course it was Sapnap. Who else would it be? Dream gritted his teeth at the fact this man just couldn't leave George alone. Dream also couldn't help but wonder - did George tell anyone about this? Do they know that he's out on a date right now, or is he keeping it on the down low? Dream wouldn't blame him. They are just getting used to each other... at least they should be, with all of these stupid distractions it was becoming increasingly difficult. Dream just couldn't keep George to himself for ten goddamn minutes can he? In front of him, George gave a quit nod. "Okay. Yes, I'm coming." Dream's heart sank. Sapnap was stealing him away, wasn't he.

George turned to face Dream. He looked incredibly upset, and even worse, worried. "I'm sorry, I, uh... I have to go. This friend he just..." George gripped his phone tightly in one hand and ran his fingers through his hair with the other. "Apparently he had to go meet someone and never came back. It's worrying." George bit his lip, gliding his tongue over the tender skin and trying to keep himself calm. Dream groaned inwardly and he also felt rather... angry.

Nonetheless, he knew he had to go along with it. "We can pick it up some other time, if you have to..."

"Alright! Thank you!" George lit up with glee. He clapped his hands together and walked forward, grabbing Dream by his forearms and pulling him into a quick embrace. "Thank you." He murmured again, arms wrapping around his chest and giving him a hefty squeeze. Dream couldn't help but smile at this.

George stepped back and gave Dream's hands a squeeze as well. "I hope your friend is okay." He said blankly. His tone and expression clearly went over the other's head beacuse he thanked him again before dropping Dream's hands and stepping back. His smile disappeared as soon as his back turned and George was off. Dream watched him go, eyes narrowing. _Thought I'd done it. Gotten Punz out of our way._ Dream's eyes never left George as the smaller scurried down the street, nose deep in his stupid phone. Dream still needed to teach him that there was a world beyond technology. _Looks like I have to finish the job._

//

 _To figure out what to do with the poster-boy for white male privilege in the cage, I need to understand who he truly is. To do that? I need to know what he cares about._

"This is unfair." Punz started, pacing back in forth in the cage like a wild animal. He looked worse for ware but the good thing is the nasty gash on his forehead was starting to heal. "If I knew you were going to quiz me, I'd have put more recent books on the list." His voice was a high pitched whine that made Dream's ears bleed.

Dream sat back in his chair with a frustrated sigh. He'd been trying to get information out of Punz for about two hours. It was supposed to be an interrogation of Punz but instead it was turning into torture for Dream. The man just didn't shut up. Not to mention he was always moving, his voice was constantly yelling and he whined over every god damn thing. Dream didn't know that he had basically kidnapping a giant manbaby. "So, bottom line, you've never even read 'On The Road'?" Dream asked again, trying to get something, anything, useful out of this man. Punz stopped to face him with his creepy bloodshot eyes and blood dried shirt.

Punz rolled his eyes. "It's very possible to read a book without having to read it in the traditional manner." He used his hands to do random gestures as if it was emphasizing his points. "You can read about a book, but you don't have to necessarily read it. You feel me dawg?" Punz's voice was getting that desperate tone that was like nails on a chalkboard. What does 'dawg' even mean? Why on earth would he call something that? Dream was starting to get fed up with his antics.

"Yeah. I get it." Dream leaned forward in his chair, meeting Punz's bllue eyes witth his own green. At least he was able to get one good thing out of this basically useless conversation that was more than a waste of time. "You're a fraud."

"Give me the stupid book." Punz scoffed, voice rising in volume. "I'll read it right now you sadistic prick! Anything to get me out of here!" Dream flinched at that name. _Sadistic prick_ didn't have the best ring to it. Dream closed the book that was in his hands and he pushed himself into a standing position. There was a slight feeling of satisfaction as Punz shrinked away from him in the lsighest of ways. _I do understand something about you now, George._ Dream made his way up to the cage with a blank expression. _You somehow think this guy is all you deserve._

Dream leaned against the box that was jutting out from the side of the cage. Punz's nostrils were flaring and his eyes were wild. "You're looking a little gray and mealy in there." Dream chided, drawing out his words in a mocking tone. This clearly pissed Punz off to no extent because he clenched his fists and walked closer to the cage.

"Yeah, no shit. You stole my stash." Punz glowered. Now, Dream wasn't an expert on drugs but judging by the jumpiness and ashy skin, Punz was going through the beginning stages of withdrawl. He was stumbling around and despite his quick comebacks and sharp insults he wasn't doing too well. It was only a matter of time until he really lost it and started to go crazy. Dream sort of wanted to see that happen. He'd never seen someone fight the symptoms of withdrawl.

Dream cocked his head with a shit eating grin on his face. "I thought it wasn't for you?"

Punz went rigid at this. He stopped pacing in circles and locked eyes with Dream. Dream knew he caught him in the act. Punz bit his lip before letting out a wrecked sigh and bringing his hands to his eyes to rub. "Fine. You happy? It's mine. I'm a chipper." He confessed, dropping his hands to the side with a rather annoyed expression. When Dream raised a brow at him, he for some reason felt the urge to defend himself. "I never do it more than three days in a row. And I'm quitting." He said this as if would sway Dream's mind. Dream shifted on his feet in front of the cage, studying the man that he had trapped like a wild animal.

"Okay. Only if you're quitting." Dream reached into the pocket of his hoodie and pulled out a small bag filled with even smaller flakes of drugs. Punz's entire body seemed to lift when he saw what Dream was holding. Dream gave him a sideways glance and saw he was practically drooling. Punz's eyes stayed hooked to the bag, bloodshot and practically bulging out of his head. Dream then reached and pulled the small box open, holding the drugs between two fingers and extending his arm to put it in the passageway which led to the other side of the cage. Punz lunged forward, grasping the handle from the other side and pulling. It stayed locked and Punz's expression fell. Dream snorted. "Doesn't work that way. It opens from one side, one side only."

Punz didn't move. Dream then tilted the small bag and tapped the side, allowing a small line of powder to fall onto the platform. Punz nervously watched as Dream carefully built the line, just a small amount but enough to stimulate the brain for a short while. "Thank you. Thank you." Punz murmured, and for once in his life he sounded incredibly sincere. His voice was broken and he was desperate. It was kind of pathetic that the only time he was serious was when he was desperate for drugs. Dream finished and pulled the bag away and closed it tightly, putting it back into his pocket.

Dream straightened himself. "One more thing," he started, relishing the way Punz shrunk down and his eyes darkened. This man was at Dream's will and he was living for it. Dream held up an object to the glass. Punz's phone. "Password?"

Punz gave him a blank expression. At first Dream was confused why he went silent. And then he started laughing. His lips curled up in a smile and his eyes squinted. Dream stared in confusion (and also a hint of fear) as the man stepped back and began cackling. His eyes were wild and he seemed almost feral. Dream didn't give way and he made sure to stay calm and keep a straight face but inside he was a little more than disturbed. Once Punz noticed that Dream wasn't laughing along with him, he cleared his throat and glanced down at his feet. "It's, uh, it's Liam. L-I-A-M." Punz rubbed the back of his neck, face flushing slightly.

Dream rolled his eyes and turned his attention back to Punz's phone. _His phone lock is another guy's name, George. Jesus Christ._ He typed it in and to no surprise watched as it unlocked. His background was boring and clearly had never been changed. Dream was satisfied with this and since he was a man of his word, he shut the hatch of the box allowing Punz access to the drugs.

The blonde didn't hesitate. He dropped to his knees tore open the hatch and practically dove inside like he was insane. He pressed his left nostril against the small table and snorted in as hard as he can. Dream watched in pure disgust as Punz hungrily devoured the drugs. Punz frantically scooped any last puff of powder and forced it up his nose, closing his eyes in pure bliss and groaning in pleasure. Dream had no idea how one could willingly do that. He also didn't know how it could be addicting considering you forced something up your nose. Veins bulged out of Punz's neck as he flexed his hands.

Meanwhile Dream turned to the side and looked back at Punz's phone. He thumbed his way into the contacts, groaning inwardly at what he saw. Punz was hitting up at least fifteen other guys, all of their contacts bunched together in a pathetic lot. _He's been living a frankly off-brand life who markets health soda._ Dream thought to himself as he clicked on one of the contacts. Dream wanted to bleach his eyes out as he saw numerous photos of Punz knee deep in a bunch of guys. It was disgusting, really. The fact that he was willing to do this and send photos back and forth without any reason was revolting. Dream would never do such a thing.

That reminded Dream of that one photo he had saw of George. The nude, the one with the caption. He must have sent it to someone. But who? Dream didn't think it was Punz. Punz was a lot of things (bad things) and trustworthy wasn't one of them. If George did send him a nude then it's no doubt it'd be spread across all platforms leaving George exposed for anyone to see. Dream looked back at Punz to see he had stumbled back and fallen to the floor. His eyes were clouded and he looked up at the roof of the ceiling with an expression filled with bliss. His hands lay over his stomach and for once he was actually quiet.

It was heavenly.

 _Based on the evidence, George doesn't miss you when you're gone. You don't mean anything to him._ Dream shut off Punz's phone and slipped it back into his pocket. He looked around the room, racking at his brain. George was still freaked out that Punz had gone missing and wasn't returning any of his calls. The solution? Dream needed to make it look like Punz was okay and just had a long night or something. Dream walked over to his desk and felt around. He needed to find something in order to make Punz look like he was doing fine and just ignoring George. Anything to make George hate him more.

Dream opened one of his drawers and much to his delight he found an old pair of boxers that he had left here one night. This would work. Dream grabbed the old pair carefully and turned, walking back up to the cage. He then took the keys out from his pocket and began unlocking the door. He'd be lying if he didn't say he was a little spooked. The drugs were doing their job because Punz looked wasted and high. He was passed out on the floor and looked relatively stationary. Dream pulled the glass door open and stepped into the room. A rush of cold air enveloped his skin and Dream made sure to carefully avoid stepping on Punz.

Dream made his way into the box and stepped over the seemingly dead body. He crouched down to the right of Punz, taking his boxers and draping them to cover up his crusty gash. He then scooted backwards, positioning his body and angling the phone to keep his bloody shirt hidden. He snapped a quick photo and once he was satisfied with it he snatched up his boxers and scurried out of the room faster than he'd ever moved in his life. He slammed the glass door shut and locked it, trying to calm his racing heart. That was incredibly uncomfortable and he didn't want to be with Punz any second longer. He felt dirty even touching the man.

When Dream was safely out of the cage and ensured the locks were tight, he went to all of Punz's socials and posted that photo along with a few captions. He posted it with a smirk knowing it was sure to get a reaction out of George. Preferably a bad one because Dream wanted George as mad at Punz as possible. He still didn't know what to do at this point with Punz. He could make it look like he was out partying for who knows how long... Eventually he'd have to come back, right? He can't just be partying forever. Dream could worry about this in the future more.

As of now, though, he was dying to know how George had reacted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ayo! Day late in posting but that's fineeeeeeee. My posting is incredibly inconsistent but that doesn't matter, anyways I hope you enjoyed the new part as much as I loved writing it.

**Author's Note:**

> For one last reminder: Do not tell the content creators about this on donos, comments, or tweets. It's fine if you talk about it amongst yourselves but try to keep it away from them. They have stated that they are okay with shipping and it has nothing to do with them in real life, it's just their online personas. I will not hesitate to take it down. Also in no way is it near finished, this is just a test run. I hope you enjoyed :)


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